


The Off Label Job

by musingmidge77



Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Eliot Spencer, Hurt/Comfort, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-19 14:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4749797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musingmidge77/pseuds/musingmidge77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team is called on to help a doctor retrieve her work on an experimental drug. What happens when they realize there is more to this job than a simple retrieval?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Eliot or the other Leverage team members. I'm not making any money. I get paid in reviews only. ;) Special thank you to my friend Valawenel for suffering through my mistakes. And thank you to all who read!

The Off Label Job

Chapter 1

"Eliot! Get Parker out of there!" Nate exclaimed over the com.

"On it," Eliot growled as he charged down the hall. "Parker...I'm on my way."

Her breathless voice came across his earpiece. "Oh...just take your time. I'm only being chased by four big, really scary guards. No big deal."

"Listen! I told you-"

"Guys!" Nate cut Eliot off. "Let's save the infighting for some other time when you two aren't being hunted down by armed security, shall we?"

Freakin' crazy people...always in my head. Eliot grunted as he punched an unfortunate security guard who accidentally stepped out of a doorway in front of him. Can't even finish one damn thought without somebody babblin' in your ear. He stepped across the unconscious personnel and continued on his way. "Oh yeah...think my job's so easy, dontcha? Get just four guards on your tail and listen to ya whine!"

"Just four guards? Man, you have done lost your mind! Baby girl is not meant to be chased down by thugs!" Hardison said.

Eliot pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply trying to control his temper. "Hardison...I swear...when this is over-"

"You seem upset," Parker said. "Why don't you try some of that meditation stuff you're always talking about?"

"Parker..." Sophie said in her soft English accent.

Eliot rounded a corner and saw that Parker had been cornered by the four guards. A triumphant smile replaced the concerned look on her face and Eliot knew she saw him approaching silently.

He tapped the two in the back on their shoulders and slammed their heads together as they turned around. Number one and two down. He stepped quickly toward Parker and the last two security guards and grabbed number three and shoved him into number four. The fourth hit the wall hard and slumped to the floor. Three down...one to go.

"Get out of here!" he yelled as number two was making his way back to his feet.

Parker shrugged into her backpack and began a sprint down the hall. "Nate...she is on her way out. Taking care of the final four guys now," he saw shadows on the wall of the hall he had just come down. "Well, shit!"

"What is it? What's going on?"

"Hardison, I thought you said there were only four guards! There are footsteps in the hall. Sounds like at least four more."

He heard frantic typing over his earbud. Then mumbled curses. "Eliot...I...I must have missed them somehow. Man, I don't know how..."

He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Dammit, Hardison! Shut up. I need to concentrate. Parker, where are you?"

"Almost to Lucille. Get out of there, Sparky."

He grimaced as there were indeed four more men headed toward him. "Workin' on it," he grumbled.

With the original four having regained their footing, he was completely surrounded. Gotta hold them off long enough for Parker to get to the van. "When Parker gets to the van...go."

"You can't mean-Eliot, no!" Sophie said.

"This is what I do. It's my job," he whispered. "Keeping y'all safe."

The sound of the van door opening and then being slammed cut off any further arguments. Giving the men his full attention, Eliot began to systematically work through the thugs. He had to take a few hits to be able to gain the opportunity to land some of his own.

A heavy punch spun Eliot around with his back momentarily to his attackers. "Nate...get them out of here," he murmured in a throaty voice tinged with urgency.

"But-" Parker began.

"Do it now!" There was no room for discussion. "You know it's the right call, Nate."

He heard it a split second before he felt it. Stun guns have a very distinctive sound. In the next second, he is headed for the floor. Every muscle in his body was locked rigid and his head slammed to the ground as he fell.

The team was in his ear, all talking at once. Babblin'.

"Eliot! What's happening? Can you hear me?" Nate's voice.

After what seemed like a full minute, the thug turned off the current. There was no time for him to mount an attack because as soon as his muscles relaxed, someone was kicking him in the ribs. He grunted and tried to curl in on himself to shield his midsection. That got him rewarded with another jolt of electricity. What can only be described as a guttural growl burst from his throat as everything locked up again.

He vaguely heard Nate trying to talk to him in the background. "Come on. Talk to us. What's happening?"

The current was cut again and he managed to croak out, "Run," before he was knocked unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Eliot or the other Leverage team members. I'm not making any money. I get paid only in reviews. ;) Special thank you to Valawenel for suffering through my mistakes! And thank you for reading!

The Off Label Job

Chapter 2

The ride back to the apartment had been unpleasant at best. Excruciating at worst.

Everyone second guessed his decision but not nearly as much as Nate did himself. They had left him. Eliot had told them to go. And go they did. While he knew that it was indeed the right call it didn't make him feel any better about it.

They had left a man behind. The irony was not lost on him that the one left was the exact one they needed for a rescue mission. How did this go so far south so fast? Eliot had said something seemed off about this one. _But I just blamed his paranoia._ And now they had Eliot.

Sophie touched him lightly on the arm as he stared absently at their hitter's empty seat. "Nate? What are we going to do? We can't just leave him."

"I don't like it any better than you do, Sophie. But he's right. It was…and is the right call. Eliot knows what he's doing."

"That was a stun gun we heard right before we lost him," Hardison said. "How could I have missed four extra guards?"

Nate sighed and ran his hands down his face. Looking to each team member, he saw the concern and confusion on everyone's face. His gaze locked with Sophie's and he saw the hint of comprehension in her dark eyes. "What aren't you telling us?" she asked quietly.

Nate said, "We were hired by Dr. Brewer to retrieve her work on a new medication, right?" Nods in the affirmative made their way around the dining room. "She was basically strong armed out of her office, fired on some trumped up accusation and her files stolen. Any electronic file in existence was destroyed. The only record of it is the paper files we just took." Parker dug the file out of her backpack and handed it over.

He sat at the table and spread out the papers while the others gathered around him. Scanning over the paperwork, he continued to think out loud. "Why all the secrecy for a variation of a drug used primarily for surgeries?" He trailed his finger over the documents as he scanned the paperwork, mumbling to himself. "Drug BM-705...dosage...indications...side effects. My thinking is that the drug gained some attention when instead of removing some of the more unpleasant side effects, some of them were enhanced."

"What are you gettin' at?" Hardison said.

Nate's finger hovered over the part of the document he had been searching for. "Apparently, it caught the attention of one Col. Dexter Conrad of the DOD." He slid the file over for the others to see.

"What would the Department of Defense want with an experimental drug?" Parker had taken up the spot next to Nate. "What does it do?"

"Says here," Sophie leaned toward the folder, reading over Nate's shoulder, "that it can lower inhibitions, cause amnesia and...allow some sedation with ability to respond to stimulation or speech."

Nate tented his fingers and turned in his chair to survey his team. "Maybe the Colonel thinks he could have a potential super soldier drug or a new means of torture. Who knows what kind of applications the government can use something like this for? But the facility they were working out of didn't seem like a government operation."

"Well...maybe the colonel has gone into business for himself," Parker said.

They all stared at her in surprise.

She shrugged. "What?"

Alec's face dropped. "And these guys have Eliot."

Nate ran his fingers through his dark hair, sighing loudly. "Okay. Hardison, I need you to make sure the only info they find on Eliot is something that doesn't alert them to his skills. The less they know about him the better. Can you do that?"

The young hacker grabbed his ever present laptop out of his bag; his fingers flew over the keyboard. "Can I do that? Listen to the man...the question is, how fast do you need it done?"

"Yesterday. If these men find out who he really is, Eliot will be in even more trouble."

Parker's quiet voice asked, "What do we do? We can't just leave Sparky."

_Oh no. Parker has her pouting face going. We'll all be lucky if we can keep her from blowing something up_. "Anything from the com?"

Hardison shook his head. "Nothing since we lost its signal a little after we had to bail. It was still operational; they must have found it and switched it off. Do you have a plan Q?"

"I'm working on it." He left the apartment, and closed the door behind him. _I'm working on it, Eliot_.


	3. Chapter 3

Sadly, I do not own Leverage or Eliot. I get paid only in reviews. Hint, hint.

A/N: Thank you as always to Valawenel, my beloved beta. And also to Maddie of Maddie's Musings...both of whom have kept me sane!

Chapter 3

Eliot woke up to the banging of a metal door. Moaning slightly, he tried to raise his head but pain shot through the back of his skull. He tried to inspect the back of his head for injury and was dismayed to find he couldn't raise his arm. He tried twisting his wrists but couldn't do that either.

_What the Hell?_ He was sitting. His arms were threaded between the vertical slats behind him and were locked in what were surely hinged handcuffs. And those things were nasty; he had encountered them once while working a job in Tehran. If he hadn't been with the military then, he wasn't so sure he would have escaped. But, he had sent the team away this time.

These things had a hinge instead of a chain and made it impossible to move his wrists; and a double lock made it harder to even pick. Not that he could reach the lock. The metal was clamped tightly around his wrists with the backs of his hands held together in such a way that he couldn't have gotten a grip on anything if he had it.

He kept his head down, feigning unconsciousness, in order to take stock of his situation. And the situation was bad. His ankles were shackled to an iron ring in the floor. The chair was plain, straight backed and made of metal. Smart. Professional. Not taking any chances.

For a moment the only sound in the room was the sound of the chains around his ankles. "Well…looks as if our guest is finally awake," taunted the tall man that entered.

Eliot squinted into the brighter light that shone into the little room. He growled in response as he flipped his long hair out of his face. He glared up at the man with indifference. _Army uniform. Colonel. judging from his patch_.

"Quite the performance you put on back there," the man said.

Eliot injected as much irritation as he could into the snarl he gave in answer.

The man, _Conrad_ , according to the patch on his fatigues, stepped closer. "Oh come now. Don't think we haven't had enough time to run your face through every facial recognition software known to man, Mr. Wyatt. Who was that cute little blonde with you?"

He flipped open a file folder and read over the report. "Chris Wyatt. Nothing special. Some advanced training. No knack for languages, I see. Not much in the way of special skills." He looked back to Eliot. "So…you're just the dumb muscle, huh?"

Eliot remained silent. He squinted his eyes in confusion. _Wyatt? So Hardison has managed to plant one of my old aliases. Good choice. Less than stellar record, but with some training._

"This wasn't just a two man job." Col. Conrad crossed his arms. "Where was the rest of your team? Monitoring from somewhere safe while you did all the dirty work? I guess that's where they are now, huh? Enjoying the fruits of your labor while you're left to pay the bill?"

The colonel met more silence. Eliot could hear the creak of the leather shoes and swish of fabric right before Conrad landed a stiff right to his face.

He grunted as his head whipped to the side. A pained moan slipped past his lips as the lack of give in the cuffs wrenched his shoulder.

There was a satisfied sneer on Conrad's face until he heard Eliot's laughter. His smile faded as Eliot raised his head, licked at his split lip and spit blood on the floor. He lowered his voice to a menacing level. "If you did all the research you claim…you'll know I've been trained for this."

Eliot could see the rage and hatred deep in the colonel's eyes when he cupped the back of his head and pulled him a little closer.

He drove his fist into Eliot's ribs knocking the wind out of him and wresting a wounded grunt from his throat. "Oh, we're just getting started, Chris," he growled in his ear and turned to leave.

Eliot took immense pleasure in the way the man's back stiffened as he started to laugh again.

"This won't be funny for long," Conrad replied, slamming and locking the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't own Eliot, Leverage or any characters in this story other than the original ones. This is not for profit. I get paid in reviews only. ;)
> 
> Thanks to my beta Valawenel for keeping me on track.

Chapter 4

.

.

.

The colonel slammed the door and locked it behind him. “What do we do with him?” asked one of the guards.

Conrad rubbed the knuckles of his right hand. “We know he had to have more than one person working with him, Robinson. He had to have a team and they have our file.”

The muscular guard crossed his arms. “What makes you think it wasn’t just the two of them?”

“Think about it. They had someone on the outside. They avoided your men for too long. They knew numbers…locations. The only thing that was a surprise was the final four men that finally stopped our guest in there.” He jerked a thumb toward the door to the makeshift prison. “Someone was monitoring security feeds for him and Blondie.”

“That doesn’t tell me what we’re gonna do with him,” Robinson said.

“He’s going to tell us everything we want to know about his team and our file,” Conrad replied with an evil smile. “I am not letting these amateurs ruin my plans for BM-705. That drug is going to set us up for life. No more serving our country in places that are too hot and sandy then getting no respect when we get home. Enough money to live out our days anywhere we choose.”

“Fair enough. But, how are we going to get him to talk? You saw in his file he’s got military training. He’s been trained to resist torture techniques.”

The colonel laughed and clapped a large hand on his underling’s shoulder. “Of course he has. But, we are trained in _interrogation techniques_. And we are properly motivated. For right now…we let him stew for a little bit. Let him think about those hinged cuffs and just how much shit he’s in.”

.

.

.

 

 

Eliot didn’t know how much time had passed since his little talk with Col. Conrad. What windows his cell did have were placed high on the wall and boarded up. It was just a plain concrete-walled room, much like any standard basement. Nothing special or fancy. Definitely been used for questionable purposes before, judging from the rusty brown stains on the floor.

He sat quietly and contemplated his predicament. _Not much else I can do._ Eyes closed, he tried to keep his mind calm. There _had_ to be some way to get out of this even with the team gone. In the few short minutes he had spent with the guy, he knew this Conrad was not someone to mess with. He was the real deal.

Keys rattled in the lock of the heavy door and Eliot flicked his eyes up to silently watch Conrad and one of his goons enter.

“Comfortable I trust,” Conrad said with a sneer in his voice. He took a chair from the man with him, sat it in front of Eliot and sat down. “Oh come on, Chris. Talk to me. I know those cuffs have got to be hurting your wrists and shoulders.”

“I’m not tellin’ you anything,” Eliot said.

“Now did I ask you anything? Why so hostile?” the man asked with a smile on his face.

Narrowing his eyes, Eliot responded, “Couldn’t have anything to do with your guys usin’ a stun gun on me. Twice. Knocking me out and dragging me to this upscale room, now could it?”

The man laughed and motioned to his friend. “Robinson, make our guest a little more comfortable, would you?”

Eliot watched the man approach. _This Robinson guy looks like he might be trouble._ He lost sight of the man as he stepped behind him. Suddenly, the soldier had grabbed the hinged section of the cuffs and with a flick of his wrist twisted it up sharply. “Ah…shit!” Eliot yelled as pain shot through his wrists and up his arms. The chains around his ankles clanked as he tried to get his feet under himself take some of the pressure off his arms.

The man behind him held fast to the restraints as the colonel stepped in front of him. The animosity shone over the man’s features when he grabbed Eliot by the chin, forcing him to look him in the eye.

“Don’t fool yourself.” Conrad tightened his grip as Eliot tried to shake off his hand. “You _will_ tell me everything I want to know. About your team and where my file is. You think your training is going to save you. I’ve had training too!” He released his chin and left the room.

Robinson was left still holding the cuffs. He leaned over so his mouth was beside Eliot’s ear. “He knows what he’s doing, ya know. You’re gonna tell him everything.” He yanked back on Eliot’s arms, pulling them farther between the slats in the chair back.

Eliot groaned as his arms were forced through the too small space. He could only imagine how sore and bruised that would be very shortly.

Robinson laughed and slapped the back of his head in a degrading manner and walked out the door.

_You better enjoy this while you can._ The door locked with an ominous clang.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't own Leverage. This is for fun, not profit. I get paid in reviews. ;)
> 
> Thank you to Valawenel for being an awesome beta.

Chapter 5       

 

 

The first thing Eliot was aware of was the uncomfortable torque on his shoulders. The second thing was cold. Extremely cold water was poured over his head. The sudden icy temperature caused his breath to come in gasps. He flipped his hair back out of his face to glare up at that bastard Conrad and Robinson smirking down at him.

 

“Rise and shine,” Robinson said as he set down the bucket he held. He laughed as he stared Eliot down.

 

“Good morning, Chris,” said Conrad. “Can I call you Chris?”

 

Eliot bit his tongue and tried to tamp down the rage that was building. He shivered, causing the cuffs to clank against the chair slats.

 

“Surely you don’t prefer Mr. Wyatt,” the colonel taunted. He shrugged and paced back and forth in front of Eliot. “We can make this short and sweet, Chris. I ask you questions. You answer them. If you don’t…we hurt you. Pretty simple.”

 

“I already t-told you,” Eliot said through chattering teeth. “’M n-not telling you anything.” Eliot eyed Robinson as he approached with deadly calm.

 

“Where is your team?” Robinson asked.

 

Eliot put an extra growl into his voice. “Go to Hell, _Robbie_ , I don’t have a team.”

 

The soldier chuckled as he placed his hand on Eliot’s shoulder in a friendly gesture. “Oh, Wyatt…you’re gonna be so much fun.” He drove his fist into Eliot’s midsection, doubling him over as far as the cuffs would allow.

 

Eliot expelled a grunt that sounded breathless and throaty to his own ears. _That was a good shot._ He tried to catch his breath as Rob walked behind him to lean him back in the chair with his hands on his shoulders.

 

Conrad took a step closer and backhanded Eliot across his right eye. He kept his gaze on the floor as his blood began to boil. “What’s wrong, _Connie_? You want a pet name too?”

 

Robinson grabbed his hair and yanked his head back to force him to look at Conrad. Then his muscular arm wrapped around Eliot’s throat, effectively holding his gaze steady on the colonel. Eliot’s struggles were ineffective being fettered as he was.

 

The colonel smirked at him. “Connie? That’s cute from someone in your position.” He landed a quick jab to the bridge of Eliot’s nose. Eliot’s eyes teared up and Conrad chuckled at his discomfort.

 

Eliot continued to struggle while he watched Conrad lean closer to his face. _If Robbie boy didn_ _’t have his arm around my throat, one quick head butt and we’d be sporting matching broken noses._

 

“What’s wrong, Chris? Gonna talk to us? Or, shall we continue with our plans?” The officer straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. “Well…what will it be?”

 

Eliot coughed as the blood from his ruined nose ran down the back of his throat. He barely managed to choke out the words. “We got nothin’ to talk about.”

 

The colonel looked over his head to Robinson and shrugged. With the arm still curled around his neck, the goon began to pound Eliot’s exposed ribs with the fist of his other hand. Eliot grunted and swore as he felt at least one rib crack.

 

Conrad held his hand up in a signal for Robinson to stop. The blows to his ribs stopped as Rob leaned his head back again. The blood continued to trickle down Eliot’s throat as he eyed the colonel.

 

The pressure on his neck was cutting off the blood supply to brain and it was getting hard to think.

 

“What’s that, Chris?” the colonel asked leaning toward Eliot.  “No new pet names? Nothing smart to say? How about the names of your team members? Hmm…you could just give us their names and this stops. This is just the beginning.”

 

Eliot continued to gag on his own blood. He was drifting. If Robinson didn’t let him go soon he was going to lose consciousness. His eyelids were getting heavy and he couldn’t quite focus on Conrad anymore.

 

Conrad nodded to Robinson again and he released Eliot. He immediately began to cough and spit the blood on the floor. His breath hitched around his injured ribs.

 

Robinson walked around to join Col. Conrad. “How about those names?” he asked as he glared down at Eliot.

 

Eliot squinted up at them with his one good eye. The right one had already begun to swell. He spat another mouthful of blood on the floor. “I…don’ have…anything to say.”

 

His eyes tracked the colonel’s movements as he stepped forward to grasp Eliot’s chin again. “Look at me, boy. You can try to keep quiet all you want. Play the hero. But you _are_ going to talk. You’re going to tell me everything I want to know and more. This…” He made a broad sweeping motion with his free hand. “This is my playground. An old, abandoned mental health hospital. Can you imagine the fun toys left over in a mental facility built in the early 1900s? Some of the _treatments_ from that era…barbaric.”

 

Eliot smirked but remained silent.

 

“Not convinced? You will be,” Conrad said as he turned Eliot’s head to the left. “See that camera up there? I have big plans for you. But, that’s a special surprise for a different time. Think it over, get comfortable and we’ll chat later. Be seeing you.” He turned and exited the room leaving Eliot alone with Robinson.

 

“The colonel may believe everything in that report,” Rob said, “but you’re not fooling me. You’re pretty calm for somebody with such a mediocre record. That’s okay. I see it as a challenge.” With reflexes too fast for a man that big, he caught Eliot off guard with a right cross to his temple and the room went black.

.

.

.

Eliot drifted in and out of consciousness. Conrad had visited him two times and Robinson had come back three times. He lost track of the hours as the beatings continued. Each time he found the blessed peace of darkness, he was jolted back to painful reality by buckets of ice cold water being poured over him.

He still hadn’t said anything. No matter what they threw at him, he hadn’t told them anything about the team. Hell, he hadn’t even said there _was_ a team.

His teeth chattered uncontrollably as he fought to stay under the surface just a little longer. Breaking the surface of that darkness only meant pain.

Once again, keys rattled in the door. _Not again._ He didn’t have the energy to raise his head, so he let his chin sag to his chest.

He could sense the man standing over him. Eliot held still to see what the man would do next. Without a word the man grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head back. He smacked him across the face and yelled, “Wake up!” Eliot looked up at the man. _Must be night. Different guard._

Eliot tried to hold his head up under his own power. He cursed inwardly at the moan that escaped his lips. _This is not good. I hope that camera isn_ _’t running yet. All I need is for Hardison to find this._

He missed everything the thug had been saying to him. Then the man grabbed his shoulders and pulled Eliot forward, stretching his shoulders to the limit. _Camera be damned._ He screamed in torment as black spots danced in front of his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Leverage. I just love Eliot and the team. This is only for fun, not profit. 
> 
> A/N: Thanks to my beta, Valawenel. She's awesome! And my good friend Maddie for keeping me sane. Enjoy! And reviews are love!

The Off Label Job 

 

Chapter 6 

 

 

Hardison rubbed his burning eyes as he took a break from his constant perusal of the internet for signs of Eliot or his captors. As Sunday had passed, his anxiety had only increased. Eliot had been taken Saturday night and they hadn’t had any leads. God only knew what they had done to him in that time. 

 

This was all his fault. I can’t believe I missed four extra guards! Now Eliot is paying the price. He took a healthy swig of now lukewarm orange soda. 

 

Nate entered the room and walked across to the kitchen to grab another cup of coffee. Glancing at the time on his laptop screen, Hardison saw that Nate couldn’t have gotten more than a couple of hours of sleep, if that. 

 

Nate blew on his coffee to cool it and walked behind the hacker to look over his shoulder. “Anything?” he asked. 

 

A shake of the head was the only answer he could muster. 

 

Nate’s hand was on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. “It isn’t your fault, Hardison.” 

 

“How do you figure?” His voice cracked mid-sentence. “I missed those guards, Nate. I’m the reason he was captured in the first place!” 

 

“We’ve always known that Eliot’s job has certain risks involved,” Nate said. “He knows the risk going into every job he does. With or without us. We’re gonna-” 

 

A loud ping alerted them to something on one of the laptops. Hardison nearly fell off of his chair trying to get to the screen. 

 

“Hardison? What the hell was that? Did you find him?” Nate turned hopeful eyes to him. 

 

“I…I don’t know.” He pulled up a window of a program that had been running in the background. Scrolling quickly, his fingers grew still over the mousepad. 

 

Nate leaned over and peered at the screen. “What? What is it?” 

 

“It’s…it’s a video link,” he stuttered. “I sent out my web crawlers. Looking for anything pertaining to Colonel Dexter Conrad or Eliot’s alias, Chris Wyatt. One of them found something.” 

 

“Do it. Open the link,” Nate said. “We need to know what’s going on.” 

 

The hacker’s finger hovered over the computer keys; the cursor on the screen taunted them. “Here we go,” he whispered and clicked the mouse. 

 

The image of a dark concrete room filled the screen. In the center of the room was a lone occupant with ankles chained to the floor and it looked like his hands were bound behind his back. “Eliot,” Hardison whispered. 

 

His head was hanging forward with his chin to his chest. Whether unconscious or merely asleep, he wasn’t moving. There was silence in the room until a door creaked off screen. There was no response from Eliot at all. Hardison watched as an average sized man in fatigues entered the room and peered at Eliot. Where is that? Concrete walls. Looks like a plain, old basement. Gotta be something. He searched the recording in vain for some sort of clue. 

 

A newcomer grabbed a handful of Eliot’s long hair and yanked his head back. With his free hand he smacked his captive’s face. “Wake up!” he roared. Eliot jerked awake and tried to hold his head up on his own. It began to loll over to the left as he moaned in pain. 

 

“Nate…this…we can’t watch…” Hardison stuttered. 

 

The man on the screen was getting angrier. “What’s the matter, princess?” They watched in horror as the man swung at Eliot and caught him above the eye with a big right hand. “Tired?” He grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him forward. 

 

Nate and Hardison could see from the side angle of the camera that his arms were threaded through the slats of the chair and cuffed behind him. Eliot screamed in torment as the man kept pulling at his shoulders. 

 

“Oh my God,” Nate growled. “Is that live? Hardison, can you get a lock on where that is coming from?” 

 

Hardison typed frantically and shook his head. “No…they’re bouncing it around all over the place. But, this isn’t live. It’s pre-recorded. It must have been last night. It’s…it’s gonna take time to track it down.” 

 

The mastermind ran his hands over his face. “Okay…get to work on it. I’m going to wake up the girls. We need all the information we can get from that video and anything else that may pop up online.” 

 

As Nate bounded up the stairs, Hardison clacked away feverishly on the laptop. “Hang on, Eliot. We’re coming.” 

 

A thundering noise hit him as the girls came running into the room. “Did you find him?” Sophie asked. 

 

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go get him!” Parker added. 

 

“It’s not that simple,” Nate replied. 

 

“Why not? Hardison has the video right there on the screen. Just go there and bring him home.” Parker winced as the man punched Eliot in the ribs. “He’s hurting him, Nate. I know Eliot gets hurt in his job. But, this is different. He can’t defend himself.” 

 

Hardison turned his chair to face them all. “I can’t pinpoint where the feed is coming from. I don’t know where he is.” 

 

Nate sighed and closed his eyes. “Besides, he may not even be in the same location now.” 

 

“What do you mean?” Parker looked stricken. “What are you talking about?” 

 

Nate motioned to Hardison to explain the situation. “This feed isn’t live,” the hacker began. “It’s recorded footage from last night. He could be anywhere right now.” 

 

Both women looked to him with pleading looks. "I wish I could track him down right now, trust me." 

 

“So,” Sophie said, “we have to wait until they put up another video before we can hope to track it? And even then it may be from a different location?” 

 

Hardison felt their eyes on his back as he turned back to his computer. “Not necessarily. There is a link at the bottom to buy-in for the link to the live feed.” 

 

“Why would they do that?” asked the mastermind. A look bordering between thoughtfulness and fear flashed across his face. “What are they selling, Hardison?” 

 

“This is not good,” Hardison said, watching them all out of a corner of his eye. “It seems the colonel is touting his new drug. Perfect for interrogation purposes. He’s selling the link so the highest bidders can watch it in action.” 

 

Parker’s tiny voice broke the momentary silence. “With Eliot as the guinea pig?” 

 

Sophie patted her arm with a look of sympathy on her face. “We aren’t going to give up.” She turned her dark eyes to their mastermind. “Are we, Nate?” 

 

Nate had that thoughtful, sometimes scary, look on his face. “No we’re not. We’re gonna find him. We start with analyzing this video for any clues, no matter how small. Any sounds, any signs at all that can tell us where he’s being held. Hardison, buy-in to get that link. I don’t care how much it takes. Then try to track down that feed.” 

 

“I’m on it,” Hardison said as he spun back around in his chair. 

 

Nate wandered toward the kitchen again. “What are you going to do?” asked Sophie. 

 

“I need a drink,” he replied in a weary voice. 

. 

. 

. 

 

Sophie followed him to the kitchen. “A drink, Nate, really?” she hissed. “Is that really what Eliot needs you to do right now?” 

 

Nate reached for the coffee pot. “I said I needed a drink, Soph. Not that I was gonna have one.” He poured another cup of coffee and had a seat at the bar. He stared into his mug as he felt Sophie’s eyes on him. “I’m not going to drink.” 

 

Sophie shot a glance over to where Parker and Hardison were sitting close together while the hacker worked on setting up untraceable accounts to pay for the buy-in. “What are you going to do, Nate? What are we going to do? This is torture. Plain and simple. They’ve already beaten him severely.” 

 

“I know, Sophie,” Nate whispered. “Now it’s sleep deprivation.” 

 

Sophie narrowed her dark eyes at him. “What do you mean, now?” 

 

He checked to make sure Hardison and Parker were still occupied with the computer screens. “You’re right. This is torture. They’ve beaten him, now it’s progressed to sleep deprivation. These people are professionals. It’s only going to escalate until they get what they want.” 

 

“Which is?” Sophie asked. 

 

Dread filled Nate as he thought on the answer. “They want the one thing Eliot would die to protect. Us.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Leverage. Kind of wish I did. This is completely for fun. The only profit I receive is in review form ;)   
> Special thank you to my friends Valawenel and Maddie. Love you, ladies!

Nate sat at the kitchen table with probably his hundredth cup of coffee so far this morning. Poring over the paperwork pertaining to drug BM-705, or Blethe, as it would be known commercially, he disliked what he found more and more. The contents of the file blanketed the table as he shifted through them periodically looking for the one that listed the side effects. He knew Eliot had been tortured before. The Hitter had told him more about that than the rest of the team.

Eliot had experience with torture involving drugs. But this thing was nasty. He had no idea how to prepare for this one. He had no idea what this drug could do and what Col. Conrad wanted with it. Dr. Brewer neglected to mention that a sample of the damn thing had been stolen along with the files.

Nate put aside ten more papers.  _There's the sheet I'm looking for._

His eyes felt as if sandpaper grated the insides of his eyelids and a dull throb built in his skull. Ignoring the pain, he continued to study the list of side effects. Short-term memory loss wasn't as worrying as the sedation with the ability to still respond to stimuli. Eliot would never forgive himself if he gave up the team, even if he was drugged and couldn't help it.

Hardison had collapsed from exhaustion an hour ago and his upper body sprawled on the work table behind the couch. His various computer screens ran numerous searches simultaneously, still aglow.

Nate turned his attention to the large screens in the living room yet again. The recorded video played on a loop. He tried to shut off the voice in his head that whispered,  _that's Eliot. Your teammate, your friend._ He had to look at this as just another job if he wanted to find Eliot.

The sound was almost muted. If he was going to treat this as just a job, he couldn't listen to the Hitter's screams. There had to be clues in that room about where he was being held. He watched over and over as the unknown man hit Eliot and pulled at his shoulders.

A loud chime from one of the laptops jolted him from his study of the video. Hardison jerked awake and nearly knocked a laptop off of the work surface.

"What was that?" Nate asked the hacker. "Search turn up something?"

The younger man's frantic eyes searched for the source of the notification. "I-I don't..." He found the correct computer and pulled it closer. "Our payment went through," he announced. "We have the live link. We-we can see him in real time."

Nate took a deep breath. "Alright. Do it. We need to check on how he's doing. Put it on the screen."

For a moment clicks from the keyboard were the only sounds in the room. One of the large screens glowed to life and filled with that room again. He realized this was going to be hard to watch but they needed clues. "Volume, Hardison," he whispered.

Soon the living room filled with the sounds of Eliot's labored breathing. He looked much worse than before. He was shivering. Beaten and bloody. Nate stole a glance at Hardison and saw the horror on his face as he remained transfixed by the screen.

"Oh my God, Nate," the hacker whispered. "They've really worked him over."

A loud clang caused Eliot to raise his head and look in the direction of the noise. His face was covered in bruises and his eye was swollen nearly shut.  _But he still manages to do that thing with his eyes._ Nate smiled at his hitter's defiance. That pride he had could be dangerous.  _Just a job. Just a client._

"Hardison, see if you can trace that." Nate barked the order to maintain that professional detachment.

He almost felt bad when he saw the shock on the young man's face. Almost. His wide eyes filled with tears for his friend. "Um...sure...yeah. I'm on it." Hardison turned back to his other laptops, fingers flying deftly over the keys.

The sound of high heels drew his attention to the stairs.  _Sophie._ She had that disapproving look on her face, so she must have heard the bulk of that exchange.

Her dark eyes strayed to the big screen before settling on Nate. "Can I talk to you in the kitchen?"

Nate nodded and followed her to the other section of the large room. He kept his eyes on the screen, scanning for any indication of where Eliot is.

"What are you doing, Nate?" Sophie's tone of voice was not friendly.

"We're trying to find Eliot. We got the link to the live feed."

She crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. "That's not what I'm talking about. I know what you're doing. You're trying to create emotional distance. I get it. I do."

"I just need to...I can't find him if my emotions get in the way," he whispered.

Sophie rubbed his arm gently. "I understand, Nate. I really do." She nodded toward the hacker at the work table. "He doesn't, though. He and Parker are fueled by emotion. They won't understand that what you're doing is out of love. You need to tone it down around them. You're lack of emotion is gonna send theirs into overdrive."

"What are they doing?" Parker's voice drifted in from the living room. The panic in her voice drew Nate and the grifter back to the screens.

The thief's eyes were huge and teary when she turned them to Nate. "Nate, what are they doing?"

A man who was obviously the colonel had entered the room with two other men. He nodded to one of the men. "Robinson, if you would."

The man indicated as Robinson took up position behind the hitter.

They watched as the other man approached Eliot's side. Nate swallowed the lump in his throat as Eliot squinted up at the man and shook his head.

"Don' come near me." His voice was more gravelly than normal as if his throat was raw. Robinson grabbed Eliot from behind in a headlock. He struggled as the third man stepped closer, holding something in his hand. "No...Don't touch me!" The chains around his ankles clattered as Robinson tightened his grip.

The man beside Eliot uncapped a syringe and moved toward his subject's arm.

"They're gonna inject him with that stuff?" Hardison asked.

Eliot was spouting obscenities and Robinson covered his mouth with his free hand, muffling his screams. The needle slid into Eliot's arm and he jerked at the sting.

"Thank you, Scott," the colonel said as the man with the needle put the cap back on and walked to the exit.

Robinson released his hold and returned to stand by his superior. "Now, Chris, in about five minutes we should be able to have some real fun."

Eliot stared at them with wild eyes as they turned to leave. He struggled against his bonds again and growled as the position pulled at his shoulders.

The team watched in silence for a couple of minutes as the drug clearly began to take effect. Parker grabbed Nate's sleeve. "We  _have_ to get Sparky out of there."

He looked down into her hazel eyes. There was so much fear there. Fear of losing what she had finally found. Tears spilled over and tracked down her face.

Looking into those eyes, Nate knew keeping his emotions in check was going to be easier said than done.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own Leverage. Thank you to my sisters, Valawenel and Maddie!

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"Wait! Hardison, go back." Nate was sure he saw something on the door as the colonel talked to the camera.

"What? He didn't say anything important. Just introducing his next sick segment," Hardison said.

"It isn't what he said." The mastermind moved closer to the screen. "There! Stop it there." He accentuated his point by motioning to the screen. "What's that? Over his shoulder."

Hardison's eyes squinted in concentration. "Some kind of sign? A door placard." He pointed to the image. "What does that say?"

Closer inspection gave Nate a little clearer view. "-u-s-i-o-n Room? What?"

"It must be somewhere old and abandoned," Sophie said. "Look how that paint is peeling."

"Looks all hospitally," Parker added, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Nate beamed at the thief. "Precisely. Hospitally. Parker, you are a genius."

He brushed past her to grab an unused laptop and Parker shrugged. "Uh...yeah."

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Conrad stood in the makeshift office watching the camera for the cell. The prisoner looked as if he was trying to fight the effects of the injection.

Robinson walked up beside him. "Think he's ready?"

The colonel let the smile spread across his face as he saw Wyatt's head tip over to the side. "He's ready. Let's go." He walked out the door with Robinson following closely behind.

"It's show time," Robinson said happily.

They stopped outside the little room and Col. Conrad unlocked the door and stepped inside. Robinson slammed and locked the door behind them.

"Well, Chris, what do you think of my little acquisition there? Hmm? Something totally new." Conrad pulled a chair in front of his captive and had a seat. "Wonderful little drug, isn't it?"

Wyatt looked as if he were having trouble holding his head up. He squinted at Conrad through the eye that wasn't swollen. "Wh-wha' did you g-give me?"

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"Okay, I'm a genius. Why is that again?" Parker looked confused.

Sophie eyed Nate as he sat down at the work table with the laptop.  _Bloody hell_. He's got that look on his face again. Why can't he just say it straight out for once instead of-

"Hospitally, Parker. You said it looked hospitally. And Sophie, you said it must be abandoned," Nate said.

"Yesss...and? Nate, now is not the time for your cryptic statements and dramatic walking away. What are you thinking?" Sophie tried to keep her agitation to a minimum but she really wasn't in the mood for his theatrics.

He pulled up the internet browser and typed in a search. He put the image up on one of the screens. A map of Massachusetts was displayed on the screen with various dots scattered across the state. "Each of these dots represents an abandoned mental health facility in the state."

"Hospitally," Sophie whispered.

A broad, somewhat maniacal grin, crossed the mastermind's face. "Hospitally. Peeling paint-" He points back to the paused video. "And that sign. Seclusion room. Most of these places were built at the turn of the twentieth century. Seclusion rooms were used for the more unruly or violent patients."

Hardison stared at the screen. "So you think he's being held in one of those abandoned sanitariums?"

There was that crazy grin again. "Exactly."

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.

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Robinson stepped forward and grabbed a handful of the man's hair and pulled his head back. "It's called Blethe." The muscular man replied. "What do you think?"

Chris's eyes were at half-mast and drooping more and more. "I...I...think?"

Laughter rang off the walls as the colonel threw his head back. "Makes it difficult doesn't it? That's part of its beauty. The name Blethe is a variation of the Greek spirit, Lethe. You see, Lethe was the spirit of forgetfulness. Oblivion. Ring any bells?"

He was met by a pitiful moan from his prisoner. "Anyway, this will lower your inhibitions, Chris. You'll be sedated-as you can see-but you'll still be able to respond to me." A look as close to fear as he would see from a man like that crossed Wyatt's face. "I see you know what that could mean for your team."

"Don' have team," he whispered.

Robinson slammed a meaty fist into the handcuffed man's rib cage. When Wyatt doubled over to cough the henchman grabbed a handful of long locks and yanked him up straight again. "Do you think we're stupid? Just save us all some trouble and tell us what we want to know. Who was the blonde?"

"What blonde?" Chris licked at his parched lips. "I don't know...what you're talking about."

With swift precision, Conrad stood from his chair and landed a solid blow to Chris's jaw. "Stop playing games! It's time to get serious. I want results. That camera is filming all of this and being streamed to some very important people. People who will pay a lot of money if this drug performs as desired. You have the dubious honor of being our test subject."

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"That narrows down the search, Hardison. Instead of focusing on the feed from this end. Can you look at those buildings and see if a strong enough signal is coming from one of them?" Sophie detected a hint of hope in Nate's voice and smiled.  _Just a job, indeed_.

Hardison's eyes were lighting up at the challenge. "That's what? Fourteen locations?" Furious clicks filled the room as his fingers glided across the keyboard. "Okay...I have searches running on just those locations. If there is  _any_  kind of signal leaving there, I'll find it."

The team paced the room for five minutes, chewing on fingernails and looking over Hardison's shoulder. The hacker rubbed his temples and looked from screen to screen.

Sophie's gaze was riveted to the screen displaying the room where Eliot was being held. Those two monsters were beating him again.  _He can't take much more of this_. Her heart plummeted each time he was asked a question and he refused to answer. Each blow Eliot took broke her heart a little more. Nate was right. Eliot would die to protect them.

Five more minutes had passed when Hardison said. "Got it! Massachusetts Mental Health Center."


	9. Chapter 9

I don't own Leverage or any characters other than the ones I made up. All this is in fun. The only compensation I receive is reviews ;)

Thank you as always to my spectacular beta, Valawenel. And to my dear little sister, Maddie, for keeping me sane.

_._

_._

_._

_Test subject?_ Eliot's thoughts were churning at a sluggish pace.  _Streaming video?_  Maybe Hardison could find the video; but would he be able to track it?  _If he finds the video...they're all going to see this. And if he can track it, those idiots will try to come for me._ He shook his head to clear his thoughts. They couldn't come here. The team had no training to deal with the military. It would be a kill-zone. Getting out of this alone was his only choice.

The colonel must have been talking to him because he was in his face, tapping his fingertips on Eliot's head as if checking for thought processes.

"Tell us about your team," Conrad repeated.

"N-no team," Eliot's throat was raw. "No...team. Jus' me." His eyes got heavier and his head tipped forward.

"I will be honest, Chris," Conrad said. "We don't have time to play around with you. We need that file. And for that we need your team. Just tell me where I can find them."

Eliot fought against confusion.  _What the hell kinda drug was that? Find them?_

"Where is the file?" Robinson yelled and backhanded Eliot across the cheek.

"I-I don't have it," Eliot replied.

Conrad smiled, but it wasn't comforting. "You  _are_  going to be a challenge," he said.

Conrad's battle scarred fist heading for Eliot's face was the last thing he saw before he blacked out again.

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The sound of erratic typing filled the apartment as Hardison worked. "Massachusetts Mental Health Center. Built in 1910." He pointed to the screen. "Opened in 1912. I'm sure you know about the kinds of the  _treatments_  in use there in the early days."

Sophie narrowed her dark eyes. "What kind of 'treatments' are we talking about?"

Photographs from the early days of the facility filled all the screens except for the one with the video feed. "Everything from the infant stages of drug therapy to electroconvulsive therapy to lobotomies. The equipment is there like it was when the doors closed in 2003."

Parker's eyes grew huge. "All the equipment is there?"

Nate sighed. "Hardison, tone it down." He jerked his head toward the thief.

"Equipment still there? They wouldn't use that on Eliot would they? Oh my god! They're already beating him...won't let him sleep..." The air crackled with the energy of her anger.

Sophie wrapped her arms around the blonde and held her close. "Sh...Parker. We have his location now. We can see him."

Nate placed a hand on Parker's shoulder. "We have his location and we will go get him."

"I'm sorry, momma." Hardison was uncomfortable. "Anyway, I pulled all the blueprints for the building." He clicked a button on his remote and a red dot appeared on one of the rooms. "This is the Seclusion room where they're holding Eliot."

Nate studied the blueprints on the screen. "Hardison, is that ductwork that leads out into the hallway outside the room? How about inside the room?"

"Nope." Hardison shook his head. "That room is part of the old plans for the hospital. It's been used for storage after the update, so there was no need for climate control there." He pointed to an area on the screen. "The nearest vent is 20 meters from Eliot. I'm working on gaining access to the cameras inside the building and see how much coverage they have throughout the facility."

"Right," Nate said. "Now what we need is a plan."

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"No you don't," Conrad spat out the words. "Robinson, wake him up!"

The other man left for a moment before coming back with the water bucket. He dumped the ice cold water over the man in the chair and watched him come around with a sputter.

Tremors wracked the prisoner's body. Sounds of metal clanking against metal were loud in the room as the man couldn't control his trembling.

Conrad was in his face again. "Where is your team? What are their names, Chris?"

"Just tell us," Robinson said. "And we'll unchain you, give you warm, dry clothes and let you sleep the drug off. How long since you've had a good, long sleep?"

Chris looked confused by Robinson's offer.  _He is definitely not thinking straight._ "Where is the file?" the colonel asked again.

"I told you I don't know."

Conrad punched him. "Who was the blonde girl?"

"Wha' blonde girl?"

Robinson yanked on the cuffs. "Where is your team?"

"Ahh! D-don' have team. Jus' me...only me."

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Sophie studied the screen through tears. Nate was right.  _Eliot would die to protect us._  They had found his location and were working on a plan to save him. But, somehow that didn't seem to ease her mind much as she watched those men hurt him.

She could almost ignore the hum of activity around her as the other team members readied equipment to go after Eliot. Sophie had watched as every time the hitter lost consciousness they dumped ice cold water over him. His body shook with tremors and his breath came in unsteady gulps. "N-no t-team," he stuttered.

"Sophie? Sophie, you alright?" She ripped her attention from the screen and met the worried, dark eyes of Hardison.

"Yes. Yes, Hardison, I'm fine." Her normally sure voice was weak, and she hated it. All this time she had been trying to keep Parker calm and assured that Eliot would be okay. And now she was losing her grip.

"He's held on this long, Soph." The younger man rubbed her arm to comfort her. "He's the strongest guy I've ever met. Eliot is gonna be alright."

"Hardison, are we ready?" Nate asked.

The hacker nodded. "Yeah. Here we go." He picked up his clicker and took his spot in front of the group. "Here is the hallway we're interested in. Parker can enter the ventilation system with this access point here on the roof. This shaft leads into the hallway we talked about. Right outside the Seclusion Room."

"Is that going to be a problem, Parker? See any issues there?" Nate asked.

The blonde shook her head. "Looks simple. Old building...air ducts added later." Her eyes narrowed in concentration. "I can do it in my sleep."

Nate nodded. "Alright, people. Let's load up Lucille. We'll need first aid supplies, blankets, water. Any equipment you will need to gain access to their security cameras, Hardison."

"What if he can't gain access?" Sophie asked. She ignored the dirty look Hardison shot her.

"Then we go to plan D," Nate responded.

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"We know you have a team, Chris," Conrad said. "Who are they? I will find them anyway. You can make it easier on them if you tell me who and where they are!"

Rage and hatred bubbled to surface at the mention of finding the team. Eliot blinked a few times, but there was no clearing of the fog around him. "I'd die before I tell you anything about them!"

Conrad leaned closer and grabbed a fistful of Eliot's hair in his left hand. He yanked on the strands baring his throat.

"Ah...so there  _is_  a team." Conrad chuckled and held a knife to the side of his neck. Horror snaked its way down his spine as he watched the satisfied sneer spread across the colonel's face.

Conrad drew the knife in a shallow cut down the right side of Eliot's neck. It hurt but he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of crying out.  _I've been through torture before. I can outlast these guys. My thoughts may be drifting, but I can...can protect-_

"Tell me about them."  _Tell him about who? What is that drug doing to me? "_ What are their names?"

"What are they like? Is the blonde as pretty as she looked on screen?"  _Yeah that's it...the team. Parker._  That leer on the colonel's face was pissing him off and he spit in the colonel's face in response.

Rage blazed in the colonel's eyes and he plunged the knife deeper near Eliot's left shoulder. Conrad smirked at the grimace he received as he pulled the blade back out.

Conrad must have wanted a response, so he sliced into Eliot's bicep. Pain spread in waves.  _I've been through worse_. Finally, it became too much and he howled in pain.

"That's better," the colonel murmured. He backed away and wiped his knife clean on the leg of Eliot's pants.

Eliot's chin dropped to his chest and his breath sawed in and out in spasms. The blood was warm and sticky as it ran down his chest and arm. "I won't...I-" he raised his head weakly and stared at his captors' blurry forms. His muddled thoughts angered him as much as this situation did. "Nothing. You're getting nothing...from me."

Motioning to the wound the colonel said, "Take care of that Robinson. I want him alive for now. When I come back, Chris, you  _will_  tell me everything I want to know."

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Nate navigated Lucille as quickly as he could through the streets. Sophie sat beside him and actually chewed one of her manicured fingernails.

Hardison and Parker were in the back so the hacker could continue to watch the video feed.

"He's going to be okay, Sophie," Nate whispered.

The grifter gave him an apprehensive smile and checked to make sure that Parker wasn't listening. "Nate, you saw that footage. It's bad. He's hurt worse than I've ever seen him. Worse than the carnival on the job with John Connell."

He reached over and patted the back of her hand. "He'll be fine. We're only ten-fifteen minutes out."

That hope was dashed by the hoarse scream of their hitter.  _Eliot. Our Eliot._

"Hardison?" Parker sounded as if she were on the verge of sobbing. Nate risked a glance in the rearview mirror and saw the ashen complexion of their hacker. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Hardison shook his head. "He-we gotta hurry, man."

Sophie turned backwards in the passenger seat. "What happened? Is he…okay?"

With the laptop swiveled toward the front Hardison pointed to the screen.

Nate and Sophie stared in horror – even Nate though he drove, she noticed - as too much blood covered Eliot's left arm and chest. "Nate, hurry," Sophie murmured. But he already had the pedal to the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Leverage or the characters. The only profit I receive comes in the form of reviews. Hint, hint. Thanks to my wonderful beta, Valawenel. And my bestie, Maddie. They keep me sane.

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Conrad grabbed Chris’s chin and forced him to look up at him. He looked for a sign of fear from the man but saw none. This man is infuriating. “Just because I need you alive does not mean you have to be in one piece. When I come back you will tell me where you team is. Or I start cutting off fingers.”

The colonel exited the room before Robinson could say anything. He knew he would follow him. He stopped outside the door and waited for his shocked second in command.

"What is it, Robinson? Is there a problem?" 

"You-you said we need him alive. What was that?" Robinson motioned back toward the room. “You cut him too deep!”

"That," Conrad said, "was letting him know how serious I am. I'm through playing. I want his team and I want that file."

"But you said you want him alive. He could bleed to death."

"I'm pretty sure that's why I told you to take care of it." He narrowed his eyes at Robinson. "Is there a problem?"

"N-no. There's no problem."

Conrad let anger seep into his voice. "Then get to it. Now is not the time to get soft. He is going to give us what we want. We're close. He's finally admitted that there is a team. He'll give us what we need." 

Robinson followed him down the hall. "You cut him too deep. You could have hit an artery or something. Not getting any information that way!"  
Conrad spun on his heel to stare down Robinson. "You may want to watch your tone." He waved his hand dismissively. But Robinson had a point. "If an artery had been hit blood would have been spurting out. Come with me and get a first aid kit or something. At most a vein's been nicked and we don't want him dying yet."  
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Parker watched Nate maneuvering the van through the streets of Boston on the way to the abandoned mental hospital. The silence was deafening. In fact, the only sounds were the ones from the live video feed.

"Parker, how is he?" Nate asked. 

Parker knew his voice was firm and steady for the benefit of the team. The intermittent flashes from street lights exposed his worried expression as he drove the van in and out of traffic. He was aware of Sophie’s gaze from the passenger’s seat. Parker turned to look at the monitors. 

Truth was, Eliot hadn't moved a lot since the colonel had finished with him. His head sagged and his chin was touching his chest. 

"He doesn't look good, Nate. He hasn't really moved much."

Hardison leaned closer to the screen. "C'mon, Eliot. C'mon, man. Move. Show us you're okay." 

A sympathetic look passed between the two of them as they watched the screen together. 

Finally, the hitter stirred and slowly raised his head. He tried to flip his hair out of his face but his head lolled to the side. 

His ragged breathing and quiet moans filled the van, causing the rest of the team to fidget in their seats. 

Parker swallowed the pain in her throat from the sob that threatened to escape. She had never seen him this bad. He couldn't even hold his head up. He tried again and managed to raise his head up somewhat straight. "He's holding his head up, guys. He's...okay." She knew she was exaggerating when she saw the blood on his torso. 

Sophie turned and watched the screen from the passenger’s side. "What is he doing?"

"Is he struggling to get free again?" Hardison asked. "He hasn't been able to make any progress so far. He's gonna hurt himself even more."

"He's making himself bleed more," Parker said. I wonder what he's thinking?

She watched as Eliot groaned and pulled as much as he could on his left arm. "How far away are we?"

Nate checked the nearest road sign. "Should be only ten minutes but if this traffic doesn't ease up it's gonna be more like fifteen. Why? What's happening?"

Parker met Nate's gaze in the mirror. "He's trying to open the wound up to bleed more."  
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Eliot listened to Robinson and the colonel argue outside his cell. So Robbie Boy was going to have to tend the wound. Perfect. He did know that he was going to have to get out of here sooner rather than later. Conrad was close to the edge. 

Taking a deep breath, he moved his arm as much as possible. It hurt. He'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't. After a few more quick inhalations, he leaned forward as much as he could, stretching his arm and shoulder. The new wetness that traveled down his chest and bicep let him know the wound was opening up more. 

He collapsed back into the chair when black dots danced in front of his vision. Panting heavily, he closed his eyes to will his vision to clear. _C'mon, Spencer. Get a grip. Can't pass out now_. His mutilated wrists felt raw but he couldn’t stop now. 

_A little opening is all I need._  
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Nate stopped Lucille at a traffic light. Again. Parker looked through the windshield at the empty sidewalk. _He’s letting a perfectly good sidewalk go to waste. All he has to do is-_

Quiet tapping from the driver’s seat caught her attention and she watched Nate. 

He checked his watch and drummed the steering wheel with his fingertips. “Why don’t these people move?”

Sophie’s leg bounced even as she said, “Calm down, Nate. We need to get there in one piece if we’re going to help him. What’s he doing now, Parker?”

“He’s still stretching his shoulder out,” Parker said. 

Hardison shook his head. She watched the tic at the corner of his eye and saw for the first time how tired he looked. “Why?” Hardison asked. “I don’t understand. He doesn’t know we’re on our way. He’s…he’s gonna hurt himself even more.”

Parker leaned back in her seat and propped her foot up on the work table. It wasn’t lost on her that Hardison didn’t even complain about her boot being dangerously close to his equipment. “I know why,” she said.

“What could he possibly hope to accomplish?” Nate asked. 

Parker shrugged. “The colonel told the guy to take care of it. They need him alive. If Eliot is bleeding enough, he’ll have to un-cuff his hands from behind his back. That position just pulls the wound open more.”

“Ain’t it a little dangerous to be making yourself bleed like that?” Hardison looked worried. 

Nate glanced up into the rear view mirror. “Eliot knows how far he can push himself. We have to trust him.”  
.  
.  
.  
Robinson returned to the cell with the supplies he would need to tend their prisoner’s wound. The man looked as if he hadn’t moved. Long hair formed a shroud around Chris’s face and Robinson didn’t know if he was conscious or not. “Chris,” he said. There was no response. 

Pulling an extra chair in front of the injured man, Robinson sat down and tilted the other man’s head back. Both cuts were bleeding sluggishly. Conrad hadn’t hit an artery but he could have hit a vein. If he had, that would be enough to cause the man to bleed to death without proper help. 

Robinson took a moment to look at Chris. Really look at him. He was beaten, battered, drugged and bloody. Yet he still hadn’t given up his team. There was a time when Robinson had been a part of a team like that. Nowadays he wasn’t so sure. The colonel would probably sell him out in an instant to save his own hide. 

Chris was completely unconscious. His head tipped to the right in what looked to be an uncomfortable angle but it allowed Robinson a better view of the gashes. The one on his bicep wasn’t as bad as the stab/cut near his shoulder. 

He was just getting his supplies in order when he heard the slurred drawl. “You…gotta…gotta un-cuff me.”

Robinson snorted in disbelief. “You think I’m crazy? Un-cuff you so you can jump me the minute your hands are free?”

Chris shook his head wearily. “L-listen. ‘M not…” His eyes slipped closed for a few seconds. “Goin’ anywhere. You can…can cuff them again in front…if you want. This-“His chin sagged down toward his chest again as if he were losing his grip on consciousness.

“C’mon.” Robinson nudged his good shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

Chris tried to jerk his head upright but that made him look like he wanted to vomit. “This way pulls wound open more. Gon’…bleed death.” His head fell over toward the left shoulder this time. 

He doesn’t seem to be in any condition to try anything. “You better not try anything,” Robinson muttered. “I’m supposed to be keeping you alive here.”

Robinson debated for another moment and then un-cuffed Chris. He grunted quietly as Robinson eased his arms from between the slats of the chair. 

Chris began to tip forward as if he was too weak to sit up now that his hands were free. Robinson caught him with a hand on his chest and pushed him back in the chair.  
Robinson grabbed their prisoner’s left wrist and snapped the cuffs back in place in front of Chris’s torso. The man didn’t move. Didn’t even raise his head. Probably couldn’t with the drugs in his system. Robinson sat back down in the chair facing the prisoner. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.   
.  
.  
.  
Nate slammed Lucille in park after they skidded to a stop. He surveyed the intimidating structure as it loomed darkly over the parking lot. He didn’t want to think about what their teammate, their friend, was going through. But they had all seen it. And it would surely fuel many nights of insomnia in his case. 

“Hey!” Hardison yelled. “Take it easy on Lucille, Nate. She’s a member of this team too.” 

Nate ground his teeth in frustration. “Well, Hardison, which is more important; Lucille, or getting to Eliot before he either bleeds out or that lunatic kills him?” 

Hardison actually looked subdued. “Eliot of course. It’s just you were driving crazy.” He motioned toward Parker to illustrate his point. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Parker grumbled. 

Sophie spoke up before the situation could get completely out of hand. “Okay, so we’re here. What’s the plan?” 

Dark eyes turned to Nate. He almost flinched under the weight of the trust in her gaze. Hardison and Parker were watching him too. He was the mastermind. The brain. And the stakes for his team had never been higher. 

“Nate?” Sophie looked worried. “There is a plan, right?” _A plan that involves me going in with Parker._ That should go over well. 

He realized she must have been talking to him and getting no response. “There’s a plan. Hardison, can you get control of their security system? We need them blind for a while. But we don’t want to get their attention. They can’t know they’re blind.”

Hardison nodded. “I can do that. I’m already in their system. I can feed them recordings of empty hallways while everybody’s favorite thief works her magic.”

“Good.” Nate nodded and eyed Parker. “We’re going to need all the time you can buy _us_.”

The blonde’s eyes narrowed in that way that made her look as if she was thinking about shoving someone off a tall building. “What do you mean _we_? I’m going in after him.”

“You don’t understand.” Nate raked his hand through his hair before he could stop it. He took a deep breath and tried to calm at least his voice down. “Eliot is dangerous enough. Now he’s been tortured. He’s hurt and drugged. He’s just trying to survive right now.”

“So?” Parker was clearly confused. “It’s me.”

“Parker, I don’t think you understand. They’ve injected him with that drug. Remember he’s going to be sedated but still able to respond to stimuli. He may not know who’s coming after him. As dangerous as he is with all his faculties intact, imagine him heavily drugged. He’s going to strike at anything moving.”

“He’s right.” Sophie stared at the laptop with the feed of Eliot. “Look at him. Once he’s free, he will lash out at anyone near him. He won’t know if they are a threat or not. You better damned well believe that all he’s going to be focused on is preventing more pain.”  
.  
.  
.  
Robinson pulled an extra chair within reach and focused on getting his supplies laid out in the order he would need them. Chris was still sitting with his chin sagging to his chest. Cuffed hands lying in his lap were motionless except for the tremor that ran through them every few seconds. 

It’ll be a miracle if I can even help him. “Chris.” There was no movement from the man. “Hey. You gotta wake up. Look at me.”

Another tremor ran through his body and the chains around his ankles clattered in the quiet room. Robinson nudged the uninjured shoulder and called a little louder. “Chris. Wake up.”

Chris jerked and his eyes snapped open. 

“Hey. It’s just me. We gotta get that wound looked at.” Robinson peered closer at Chris’s shoulder. 

The injured man’s head lolled weakly to the side. “Wha’s your first…first name, Robbie?”

Robinson was surprised as he raised his eyes to Chris’s ashen face. “My name’s Alex. Why?”

A change in his eyes should’ve warned him; a spark ignited in a second.

Cuffed hands surged forward, grabbing him around the back of his neck. He choked in disbelief; _too fast for a man injured this bad…_

“Because I like to be on a first name basis with people when I smash their face in,” the growled whisper was the last thing he heard before everything turned black.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as usual. I don't own. Just love them. Not make any money. I'm only hoping for people to enjoy what I do and maybe leave a review. Thanks to my beta, Valawenel for being tireless in her support of teaching me to tell my stories.

Nate was beginning to seriously question his decision to crawl through the vents with Parker. The dust in the air tickled the back of his throat and he coughed. The sound echoed off the cramped interior of the duct. He shrugged the best he could when Parker shot a glare back over her shoulder. He wiggled around another corner and grunted at the cramp in his leg. 

He was getting too old for this. But they needed Hardison to stay in Lucille and man the computers to make sure the security cameras continued to show what they wanted. Someone had to go with Parker; and he couldn’t send Sophie. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, the thought of Sophie crawling through the ventilation system would be amusing.

“Almost there, Nate,” Parker whispered. “Just around this turn and the vent cover that leads into the hallway should be right there.”

Hardison was immediately in their ears. “You guys are right on track. The only thing security will be seeing is an empty hall. It’ll give Parker plenty of time with the door and-uh oh.” 

Nate sighed loudly. “What uh oh? Hardison, no uh ohs. What’s going on?”

“Here we are,” Parker announced as she eased the vent cover to the floor and dropped gracefully to her feet.

As he dropped to the floor in a clumsy, uncontrolled plummet, Nate thanked his lucky stars that there was no audio on those cameras. “Hardison?”

“Uh…He’s up.” 

“What do you mean he’s up, Hardison? Stop beating around the bush. What’s happening? Parker is working on the lock right now.”

“I mean Eliot’s standing up. The guy cuffed his hands in front of him to take care of his shoulder. Eliot attacked him and is on his feet. He looks kinda scary, guys. Be careful.”

Nate pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Okay. I’m going in first.” He motioned to Parker. “Stay behind me.”

The door eased open, and they stepped in.

Eliot stood over Robinson’s body.

Blood flew in a sluggish stream down the hitter’s shirtless chest.

Blossoming bruises on his face stood out starkly against his pale skin; tremors wracked his body from head to toe. 

He heard them. 

His head turned slowly towards them, and a predatory glare in his eyes stopped Nate short.  
.  
.  
.  
Eliot stared at the new people in the room. A woman this time as well. What kind of game are they playing? Bringing a woman in here? And no uniforms? This had to be some kind of trick. “Not tellin’ you-“ What exactly was it they wanted? Why can’t I remember?

The man was saying something to him. Holding out his hands. Did he have a weapon? Eliot stumbled back a step and let a growl creep into his voice. “Don’ touch me.” Why do I sound so funny?

The dark haired man dropped his hands. “Eliot,” he said, “you’ve been drugged. We’re here to take you home, okay? You have to trust us.”

Eliot felt the grin as it split his lip open further. “I don’t trust. Anybody.” He touched his fingertips to the fresh blood. At least he did after his hands cooperated with him. Looking to his hands, he watched them tremble. What’s wrong with me?  
.  
.  
.  
“Eliot? Eliot, look at us.” He reached to Eliot. “Come on. You know who we are?” He inched closer. They had to hurry. While the hallway cameras were taken care of, there was nothing they could do with the camera in here.

“Don’t come near me,” Eliot warned in a raspier than usual voice. “Stay away from me.”

The hitter looked unsteady on his feet and unusually unsure of his surroundings. “Eliot. It’s me, Nate. And Parker is here too. We came to get you. You’re safe now.” He took a step toward him and reached out his hand again. 

Eliot shuffled back a step and the chains around his ankles clattered together. “Don’ touch me.” Another stutter step took him further away from Nate. 

Nate withdrew his hand when a low, menacing growl from the hitter drifted over to them. Nate dropped his hand back to his side. “You’ve got to trust us. We can just fool them for so long. They saw an empty hall on the security cameras. We can’t do anything with the feed here. If they see us-Parker, no!”

Parker had taken a couple of steps toward the hitter. She didn’t understand how dangerous Eliot could be in a situation like this. “Stay back, Parker.”

She had her hand stretched out toward Eliot. “Come on. You know me.”

“I know you need to s-stay away from-from me.” Parker froze as she met Eliot’s murderous glare.

“Eliot, it’s me…Parker,” she whispered. “You know, twenty pounds of crazy. Five-pound bag. I know you won’t hurt me. You protect us. Always. You protected us this time too. Let us help you now.”

Nate held his breath as the hitter stared at her. Eliot blinked once. Twice. Finally, it looked like a hint of recognition – his eyes narrowed, more present - as he took a step toward Parker. 

“Parker?” Eliot asked. “There’s somethin’ wrong with you.” His gaze drifted to Nate. “Why did you…did you b-bring them h-here?” His teeth chattered as he tried to form the words. “T-too dangerous.”

“We couldn’t leave you here. We…uh, we didn’t know what was happening to you.” Nate didn’t want to tell Eliot how much they had seen. He knew the hitter closely guarded his aura of invincibility. 

“We have to get you out of here, Eliot. We don’t have a lot of time,” Nate said.

Eliot didn’t look like he could stay on his feet much longer. 

“We were coming for you, Eliot. You had to know that.” Parker looked crestfallen. 

Parker watched Eliot as if looking for some sign that he hadn’t doubted them. 

“You…you wanna make yourself useful? Get these cuffs and chains off.” He held his cuffed hands out and motioned to his unconscious guard. “H-he has key.”

Nate wondered how they were going to get the younger man out of there. He was usually their escape plan after all. Now he was in no condition to be busting anyone out of anywhere. His cuffed hands hung in front of his body as if he couldn’t hold them up any more. 

“No problem,” Parker said as she rummaged through Robinson’s pockets. She unlocked the cuffs and let them clatter to the floor. “Eliot, are you sure-“

“Just get the chains, Parker,” he growled.

Parker flinched and Nate could see the effort Eliot put into softening his voice. “’Less you wanna hang around.” 

“That’s not an option, guys,” Nate responded. “We need to get going.”

They watched Eliot’s wobbly steps as he walked to the open door. Nate stepped up beside him and glanced with unease at Parker who was still frozen in the middle of the room.  
.  
.  
.  
Eliot leaned up against the doorframe. He had to pull himself together. _I’m the hitter damn it._ Protecting the team was his job, hurt or not. He had to get them out of here since Nate had brought them here. 

“Get back, Nate.” The words were carried on a growl that he tried to temper without much success. “You…and Parker stay behind me.” He swayed as he stepped out into the hallway. That damn drug is making this difficult. It pissed him off. A lot. But that was good. Helpful even. 

All Eliot had to do was let the rage build. The rage and fear. Rage at the threats to his family. The fear for their safety. Fear could be a good thing too, when used properly. He could fight off the effects of the drug as long as he held on to the rage. _Just until they are safe, Spencer_. 

“Eliot, wait. We have the blueprints for the building. We should lead,” Nate said.

Eliot shook his head and tried to swallow the nausea that reared its head. “I have to do this, Nate,” he whispered. “I know you had to see everything.”

“Eliot, we-“

Eliot jerked his head in Parker’s direction. “They have to see me do this. Have to know I can. They can’t lose that confidence in me or this doesn’t work anymore.”

Nate nodded and held out a palm containing a spare com. Eliot took the com and placed it in his ear. He was instantly assailed by the voices of Hardison and Sophie. A smile spread across his face. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that. 

“Eliot? You hear me, man?” Hardison’s worried voice actually sounded like music to Eliot’s ears. 

“Yeah. I hear ya, Hardison.” His voice was weaker and raspier than he wanted it to be. “Lead the way.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna let Nate and Parker lead on this? I mean, you know how momma is with blueprints.”

Eliot dropped his voice to a growl. “I’m the hitter. It’s my job.”

“You’re the hitter, but you’re hurt, Eliot.” Sophie. He was not in the mood for coddling. 

“D-doing my job…while hurt…in job description.” He hoped she didn’t catch the pauses and breathlessness in his speech. 

Her next words squashed that hope. “Alec, please cut everyone’s com but mine and Eliot’s” Shit. He could hear movement and then the door to Lucille open and close. He pictured Sophie exiting the vehicle planning to use all her grifting powers against him. 

“Listen, Soph-“

“No. You listen to me.” Damn, no cooing voice there. “You are not just our hitter. You’re family. Eliot…I know how hurt you are.”  
“I can get them out, Sophie. Trust me.”

“I do. Immensely. I also know that you will do whatever it takes. No matter what happens to you.”

“We can talk about this after I get Nate and Parker out of here. These guys…they mean business.”

A sigh drifted across the earbud. “Fine. Get our family out, Eliot. All of them.” 

The door opened in the background and Hardison’s voice was back. “Alright. Let’s get going. You wanna take a right out of the door. Continue down the hall to the end and take a left.”

“You heard the man,” Eliot said to Nate. “You two.” He pointed to thief and mastermind in his care. “Stay behind me.”  
.  
.  
.  
Parker watched Eliot walk in the direction Hardison indicated. She noticed the stagger in his gait. She doubted many people would notice such a minute wobble. But with Eliot, it was an odd occurrence. She was afraid he wasn’t going to be able to make it out. At least not under his own power. She was afraid to even poke him as was her custom. He looked as if he may topple over. 

“Heads up. You’ve got two bad guys heading your way,” Hardison said. 

“Eliot, we can duck in the vent. Go back the way we came in.” Parker hoped he would take that option and not fight. 

Eliot leaned against the wall and took in a quaking breath. He was still shivering. “We all know I’m not-“ His eyes closed and his voice became quieter. “I ain’t gonna be able to crawl through that vent. I can’t pull myself along. This is the only way. Hardison, where are they?”

“Right on top of you.”

Eliot pushed himself from the wall and straightened to his full height. The transformation amazed Parker. He met one of the guards as they rounded the corner. “Hello, boys,” his voice had that dangerous growl back. 

The first guard pulled a gun but the hitter grabbed the weapon and punched him in the nose with his right hand while ejecting the clip with his left. In almost the same movement he used the gun to backhand the other guard across the face. 

Both men lay in a heap as Eliot stepped over them and tossed the gun aside. 

Nate motioned to Eliot’s chest. “Are you okay? Looks like that opened up more.”

“’M fine. Keep moving.” He tucked his injured arm close to his body and resumed his course.

.  
.  
.  
Eliot leaned against the wall to catch his breath. He was more tired than he normally would have been after taking care of just two men. He knew he was going to have to draw on any reserves of strength he may have left. He had to press on if he was going to get the team out of here before the drugs and blood loss took him down.He began moving again, albeit slower, trusting that Nate and Parker were behind him.

  
“Coming up on the end of the hall. You’re gonna want to take a left here. Uh…guys.” Hardison hesitated. 

“What is it, Hardison?” Nate asked. The irritation in his voice sizzled over the coms’ frequency.  
“Three more. Headed your way. Between you and the exit.” 

“Of course they are,” Nate muttered.

Eliot looked at his team members. His sorry condition was mirrored back to him in their concerned gazes.  
.  
.  
.  
Three more guards between them and safety. Nate didn’t know how Eliot would get them past the men. But he knew he would. Or die trying. He tried to push that thought from his mind. 

“Stay,” the hitter ordered and he turned the corner leaving Nate alone with Parker to speculate about what was happening around the corner. 

The sound of grunts and groans of pain filled their ears and then…silence. The silence was no less troubling than the sounds of violence. Eliot had said nothing and Nate was almost afraid to call his name. 

“Eliot?” Nate whispered. “Can you hear me?” Heavy breathing filled the earbuds. 

He looked at Parker but tried to hide his unease. What if that wasn’t Eliot’s breathing?

Eliot came around the corner even more unsteady on his feet. With a wild look in his eyes he leaned against the wall for support. He shivered, reminding Nate of the coolness of the building. “Are you-“

“Fine,” came the uttered reply. “Get movin’.”

“Are you sure, Sparky? Nate and I can support you. Help you out.” Parker’s voice quivered, betraying her calm demeanor.

A softness lit the younger man’s eyes and gone was the hardened warrior. 

In his place was their friend. He smiled. “I’m fine, Parker,” he said even as he sank toward the floor. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Leverage or any of the characters. Not making any money from this but reviews are appreciated. Special thanks to my friends Maddie and Valawenel, my beta guru. :)

Chapter 12

 

Nate watched with horror as Eliot sank to the floor and didn’t move. _I knew he shouldn’t have fought._ But he knew Eliot would do anything for the team. Even if it meant fighting five armed men while drugged and bleeding. Nate knelt at Eliot’s side and leaned the younger man against the wall.

“Eliot,” Nate whispered. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?” He tilted the hitter’s head back to peer into his face. Now he could study him closer and Eliot’s condition shocked Nate. The cuts and bruises crisscrossed his face and upper body. _He’s too pale._

Eliot tried to push himself up and grunted in pain. He squeezed his eyes closed and leant his head against the wall. “C-can’t get…wha’ happened?”

Nate watched as Eliot’s breath sawed in and out in spasms. “Stay calm,” Nate said. He pushed the hair out of the hitter’s face and tried to make eye contact. The blue eyes held none of their usual vibrancy. _That untamed stare is back._

“Look at me, Eliot.” Nate smiled when the hitter focused on him. This scared Nate but he couldn’t let the team see he how much. “You got stabbed remember? From the look of that shoulder, you’ve dislocated it. But we will get you home okay?  Trust us. Can you do that?”

Nate watched as the emotions swirled in his friend’s eyes. Pain, fear, anger. He saw trust emerge. Eliot nodded.

“Good. I’ll help you off the floor. I’ll be on your right. Parker will steady you on your left.” He wanted Eliot to know everyone’s location.

Parker joined Nate and together they hoisted Eliot to his feet. His weight pulled them both toward the floor.

“Nate, need me to come help?” Hardison asked.

“No. Stay in the van. We need to be ready to go.” Nate glanced at Parker. She was quiet; wide eyes riveted to Eliot. She alternated between staring at his face and watching his feet as they tripped over each other and scooted across the floor.

Parker looked up at Nate. “Nate?” With only one word, she asked so many questions. She may as well have asked them out loud. Is he okay? Will he be okay? Will _we_ be okay?

Nate nodded without a word. _Yes. He will. We will be okay._

.

.

.

Hardison stood up so fast it startled Sophie. “Hardison, where are you going? Nate said to stay here.”

Tears filled the young man’s eyes as he turned to her. “I have to help him, Sophie. Parker can’t help Nate as much as I can.”

“We need to go fast. We have to be ready once they get Eliot to the van.” Sophie worried that Hardison was letting this get to him. It affected the whole team. Including Nate, even though he tried to stay _professional._

“Sophie,” Hardison said in spite of his voice cracking. “I _have_ to do this. _I_ missed those extra guards. Me. This is my fault. Everything he’s gone through is because I messed up that job. This is the only way I can…” He swallowed hard. “Make amends for what I did. He’s family, Sophie.”

The sharp pain in his eyes stabbed her heart. “You didn’t do-“ She realized nothing to say would help and sighed. “Okay. I’ll stay with the van. I’ll lock the doors. It’ll be fine. Go. Go bring our Eliot back.”

A small smile crossed the hacker’s face. He nodded and slipped out the back of Lucille.

.

.

.

Hardison burst into the building. Eliot was on the floor again. Parker chewed her lip and Nate was trying to motivate the hitter into standing.

“Hardison?” Parker asked.

“I thought I said to stay in the van,” Nate said.

“I have to help, man,” Hardison responded. He knelt by Eliot and tried to ignore the surge of guilt caused by the hitter’s condition.

Hardison hooked his arm around Eliot and grunted as he pulled the shorter man to his feet. “No taking the easy way out.”

“Easy…easy way out? This look…” The hitter swayed. “Easy to you? Sat at com-computer this whole time…” He smiled. Hardison enjoyed their familiar banter.

Eliot’s tremors wracked his and Hardison’s frames. He pulled Eliot closer to his side. “Lucky for you. Found your sorry ass didn’t I?”

Eliot snorted. “I was already…free in case you didn’t-“ He listed to the side and Hardison had to steady him against the doorjamb.

The hitter’s hazy and unfocused eyes shifted around the hallway as Hardison worked to keep him on his feet. “Hey, man, you with me?”

“L-leave me. The m…mission…” He leaned heavier against Hardison.

“Mission? What? Listen, there’s no mission. You gotta get going, okay? They’ll be here any minute.”

“Tha’s why you gotta…gotta go. Slowin’ you down. Won’t give ‘em anything. The mission. ‘S too important, sir.”

_Sir? What’s he talking about?_ The color drained from Eliot’s skin and he shivered. “Listen, soldier,” Hardison whispered. “ _You_ are the mission. We came to get you out. We leave together or not at all. No man left behind.” He pulled Eliot away from the doorjamb and more upright. “What do we say, Spencer?”

Eliot blinked. A long three second blink. “N…no man left b…behind.”

“That’s it. Let’s get moving.” Hardison ushered him out the door.

Eliot’s strength faded the closer they got to Lucille.

“Sorry, Eliot,” Hardison said. “Parked as close as we could.”

“Did good. Any closer is too dangerous,” Eliot managed between pants for air. 

Hardison felt his eyebrows shoot skyward in surprise. “Did Eliot Spencer just give _hacker extra-ordinaire_ a compliment?”

“Sh’up, Hardison.”

Hope sparked in Hardison’s heart. _He knows who I am again._ “If you don’t perk up and walk, I’m carrying you bridal style.” Between his anxiety and supporting most Eliot’s weight, Hardison’s words sounded forced.

“You try…I’ma break your arm,” Eliot huffed out the words.

.

.

.

The tired growl did nothing to ease anyone’s concern as Eliot stumbled again and went to his knees.

Nate rushed to Eliot’s other side and helped Hardison hoist the injured man between them and pulled him the rest of the way.

Nate didn’t know if Eliot was unconscious or just too weak to hold his head up anymore. A curtain of brown hair hid his face from view.

“Here we are, Eliot. You made it,” he whispered. Professional distance be damned. “You did good.”

He had abandoned the plan of distancing himself. The moment he had seen Eliot handcuffed to that chair and beaten- _beaten for us-_ he found it difficult to keep up his mastermind persona.

“Parker, drive,” Nate said as they reached the back of Lucille.

Parker obeyed without argument. She climbed in the driver’s seat beside Sophie and waited.

Nate helped Hardison hoist Eliot inside the van. “I got him, Hardison,” Nate said. He tightened his grip around Eliot’s waist while Hardison readied the mattress and supplies they had brought to treat Eliot and make him as comfortable as possible.

The hitter trembled and mumbled at Nate’s side. “Shh. It’s okay, Eliot.” He kept his voice quiet out of respect for the hitter’s ever present wish to appear in control.

“Alright,” Hardison said. He helped ease Eliot onto the mattress and slammed Lucille’s doors.

Nate smiled at the rough treatment Hardison gave _his baby_ now. Parker floored the accelerator and the van shot forward; down the long drive and past the overgrown grounds.

A loud gasp drew Nate’s attention to the passenger’s seat. Huge tears tracked down Sophie’s face but did nothing to drain the pools still in her eyes.

.

.

.

“Oh, Eliot,” Sophie whispered. The video hadn’t communicated the full extent of his injuries.

The helplessness was heavy as she watched Nate and Alec tend to Eliot.

Hardison handed Nate a bottle of water from the cache of supplies. Nate hooked an arm around Eliot’s back and lifted him from the mattress.

Sophie’s heart swelled as the hitter protested moving with a grunt mixed with a whimper. “Shh. I got you. I got you,” Nate whispered as he held the bottle to Eliot’s cracked and bleeding lips.

After the first sip passed his lips, Eliot reached up to tip the bottle further.

“Easy, Eliot,” Hardison said. He pressed gauze to the still bleeding stab wound. “Not too fast.”

“You’ll make yourself sick,” Nate agreed. “Just a small sip.”

As beaten and bloody as he was; she would never forget his eyes. The hitter looked up at Nate and naked emotion shone in their icy depths. Confusion, anger, wariness. And fear. They weren’t the eyes of their friend. _This is someone else._

Eliot’s tremors became even stronger as he tried to struggle. “N-no!” His left arm shot out like a piston, knocking Hardison to the back of the van.

“I thought you said he has a dislocated shoulder,” Hardison complained.

“It is,” Nate responded. “But, you know how-“

Eliot grabbed Nate’s shirt collar and tugged him closer. “Don’ touch…me.” The hitter’s voice was weak but still had that growling edge.

Parker had been silent but said, “You’d better calm him down somehow. Hardison, are you okay?” She looked at the struggle in the rear view.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Damn. If that’s him weak…”

Sophie left the passenger’s seat and took Hardison’s vacated spot.

“Sophie, what are you doing?” Nate’s wide eyes met her gaze. Eliot might have been weak, but he had trouble holding the hitter.

“We’ve got to calm him down, Nate. The more he struggles the more blood he loses. Trust me.”

The mastermind looked at the struggling man in his arms. He seemed to descend even further into whatever nightmare replayed in his mind.

Nate nodded. “Be careful, Sophie.”

“Eliot,” she was careful to keep her voice soft and gentle. _Grifter’s voice._ “Eliot, darling, it’s Sophie.  Calm down so we can help you.”

The cold blue eyes jerked to her face. Pure rage this time. “How did you kn…know her name? I ain’t telling you anything.” He blinked and looked confused. “Oh god…did I? Did I tell her name? No. No, no…I wouldn’t have. ‘S trick. I didn’t.” Tears built in his eyes but didn’t fall.

She moved slow, so she didn’t startle him and ran her fingers through his damp hair. “It’s me. You’re with us. Safe. You didn’t tell them anything.” She felt hot tears sting her eyes anew. “You protected us.” _Again._ “You did good.”

He looked at her for a moment and released Nate’s collar. With hesitation, he touched his fingertips to her tears. “S-Sophie? The others?”

“Are safe. They’re all here.” Sophie motioned for the gauze in Hardison’s hand. “You’ve got to let us help you.”

Eliot’s attention turned to Hardison’s face. Then looked to Nate. “P…Park-“

“I’m driving, Eliot,” Parker assured from the front. “We came to get you.” Sophie noticed Parker looked proud even though there were tears on her face.

A relieved sigh pulled her gaze back to Eliot.

He looked back at Nate. What would have been a beautiful smile, minus the cuts and bruises, crossed his face. He nodded as his eyes slid closed and the hand fisted in Nate's shirt fell to his chest.

"Eliot?" Sophie pushed the hair from his forehead and peered into his face.

"He's out, Sophie," Nate whispered.

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.

“Nate, where am I taking him? He needs help.”

Parker’s voice jarred Nate from his concentration on their hitter. He watched as Sophie pressed gauze to the wound as he pondered the question. _Is the blood even slowing_?

“We can’t take him to the hospital. Someone could find out he’s vulnerable.” Sophie looked up at Nate with wide, fear-filled eyes.

He looked at the unconscious younger man. Plenty of people would love to see Eliot Spencer in this state. “My apartment. No other place to go.”

Hardison pinned him with a confused expression. “Your apartment? Nate, the man is bleeding. They beat him and drugged him. We need to get him a doctor.”

Nate pulled out his phone and punched in a number. “I need you to hide any connection between us and McRory’s. All connections to us or Chris Wyatt.”

“On it. Who are you calling?” The hacker was already working away on one of his keyboards.

“I’m calling Dr. Brewer. She can help us.”

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.

Pain. Pain was Eliot's world. He hurt everywhere. At least he wasn't in that damned chair anymore. There was a softness beneath him. _A mattress?_

Someone had covered him with a soft blanket but his shivering didn’t stop. Why were they caring for him after what they had done?

A woman's voice drifted on the air along with other voices that sounded familiar to him. _Is that Parker? That's right. The team. They here? Or did they get me out?_

Eliot cracked an eye open and saw the inside of Lucille for a moment before having to clamp his eyes closed against the headache.

He wished whoever was doing that groaning would stop. It kept him awake. _Is that me?_

The bile churned in his stomach. He felt like he would be sick. Eliot must have voiced his discomfort out loud because a container appeared as someone lifted him.

His throat burned as the meager contents of his stomach emptied into the container. Tears pricked at his eyes as dry heaves joined with the bone jarring tremors.

An authoritative male voice said, “The drug. One of the side effects."

"Okay?" A soft female voice asked.

Eliot tried to nod but grunted what must have been the correct response and the mysterious someone eased him back to the mattress.

Someone pressed a cool cloth to his parched lips and dabbed with gentleness. Soft hands ran over the side of his face they hadn't used as a punching bag as much. Eliot pried his eyes open again. "S...Sophie?" The weak croak that replaced his voice ticked him off.  

"Yes, darling. We're still here." She dabbed away some of the blood. A sad smile crossed her face. "We've got you, sweetie. You rest, okay? We'll take care of everything."

Eliot leaned into her touch and allowed his eyes to drift closed. _Just for a second._


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I receive no profit from my writing. I am just making a humble attempt at keeping wonderful characters alive. Thank you Leverage!
> 
> Thanks to my beta, Valawenel. And my sis, Maddie for keeping me sane. 
> 
> And as always, thanks to those who read and review.

Chapter 13

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Parker pulled Lucille behind McRory’s. She jumped out of the driver’s side and pulled open both doors, coming face to face with Nate and Sophie. “How is Eliot, Nate?” Parker asked. She didn’t like the expression on Nate’s face. _Sophie’s still crying._

“He’s still unconscious. We’re gonna have to carry him upstairs.”

“He’s gonna hate that,” Parker whispered. She shook her head. “Not gonna like it. He’ll growl at you. That’ll be worse than poking him.”

She stepped back as Nate and Hardison pulled the mattress closer to the back of the van. “He won’t have much of a choice, Parker,” the mastermind said.

_Won’t have much of a choice._ That statement hurt. Eliot was always in charge of his own body. Eliot being helpless was surreal.  

“I can get his feet if you want to get his shoulders, Hardison.” Nate said.

Hardison turned his ashen face to Nate. “No. Nate, I’ll get him. I can do it. I need to do it.”

Nate met his gaze and nodded.

Parker watched as Hardison reached for Eliot. He pulled the injured hitter closer and hooked one arm under his knees and the other under his shoulders. He took extra care as he lifted his friend from the makeshift bed and held him against his chest.

Eliot’s left arm was lifeless as it fell from his chest and hung in midair.

The hitter emitted a quiet moan and his head fell to Hardison’s shoulder.

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“Shh…I got you, man,” Hardison whispered to Eliot. He held him closer to his chest to keep from jostling him any more than necessary. _Eliot would kill me for doing this._ But the hitter didn’t move. They had all seen Eliot hurt before. Iced injuries, bandaged cuts and wrapped sprains were normal. But this; this was different.

Nate rushed ahead, making sure the no one saw them. “I’ve got you, Eliot,” Hardison whispered.

He got no response. The hitter was still. Eliot was never still. Even sitting in a briefing, the man’s energy and intensity filled the room. The air snapped with his vitality. Now, his eyelids didn’t even flutter.

Hardison took care to get Eliot upstairs to Nate’s apartment without further injury.

Nate flipped the light switch and bathed the apartment in a warm glow. “Upstairs, Hardison. My room.”

Hardison nodded and made his way up the spiral staircase. His lower back throbbed and his arms burned but it didn’t matter. Eliot would do it for them.

Hardison stopped beside the bed and his arms trembled as he took his time lowering Eliot onto the sheets. Eliot’s soft groan tugged at Hardison’s heart and hot tears burned his eyes.

“Hardison.” Nate’s voice pulled his attention from the battered face of their friend. “He’ll be okay. Dr. Brewer will be here any time. This is her drug. She’ll be able to tell us what we need to do. She can take care of his shoulder. He’ll be okay.”

Hardison swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “He’s always okay, right?” Even though he let the grin spread across his face, he remained unconvinced.

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Sophie breezed into the room carrying a bowl of water and washcloths. “You two get out.”

Nate turned a shocked gaze her way. “Sophie, what are you doing?”

_How do I tell him I can’t stand the sight of that blood on him?_ “I need to clean those wounds. That place was filthy, and he doesn’t need an infection on top of everything else.”

“Can handle it?” Nate asked.

“Yes, Nate, I can bloody handle it! He stitched you, didn’t he? Don’t we owe him the same?” She was directing her anger where it didn’t belong but she was so scared. It hurt so much seeing Eliot this way.

“Yes we do, Sophie,” Nate whispered. “We owe him that.” He nodded to Hardison, and they both headed for the door.

Nate paused beside her. “Do you want me to stay?”

She regarded him through tears and sniffled. “I…I need to-“

Nate nodded in understanding and pulled Hardison from the room.

Sophie listened to their retreating footsteps as she focused on Eliot’s chest rising and falling with each hitched breath.

She sat beside him on the bed and dampened the washcloth. Scenes from that video played in her mind as she dabbed at the cuts on his face.

“You stubborn idiot,” she murmured. “Were you prepared to die for us? Didn’t you believe we would come get you?”

Sophie ran her fingers through Eliot’s hair. “Honey, you have to let us love you.”

Eliot’s hand shot up from the bed and latched onto her wrist. She looked into his eyes and met his feral glare. “Wha’ you doin’?”

She had trouble getting him to focus his wavering gaze on her. “Eliot. Eliot, listen. It’s Sophie. Look at me, honey. I’d never hurt you.”

He squinted his eyes and his grip loosened. “Sophie? Is…you?”

She reached with her free hand to push a strand of hair out of his eyes and ignored the flinch as she touched him. “Shh. Yes, it’s me, Eliot.” She smiled at him, hoping to calm his fears. “Remember the time you put the huge cockroach in my food? I made you serve me tea for revenge?”

Slow blinks showed he was mulling it over. A playful glimmer sparked in his gaze. “Was…was big…”

“Bloody gigantic, that thing! Let me help you, darling,” she whispered.

Eliot’s glazed eyes drifted to her wrist. He released her like a hot pan in his kitchen.

“Soph…shit…I...”

She squeezed his hand and lay it back on the bed. “It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me. Just let me finish cleaning you up, yeah?”

His eyes drifted closed again while she started cleaning the wounds.

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.

Nate checked his watch as he sat downstairs in McRory’s waiting for Dr. Brewer. She should have been there. He fought the urge for a drink as he checked the face of every new arrival. After ten minutes relief washed over him as the doctor entered and looked over the faces. She shot him a nervous smile and made her way across the room to meet him halfway.

“I’m sorry. I got held up in traffic. How is he?” The woman looked apologetic.

He guided her back the way she had come with a light hold on her arm. “Eliot’s…well, follow me upstairs. They drugged him. He’s with us for a while, then he doesn’t recognize where he is.”

Nate ushered her into the apartment and upstairs to his bedroom. “There are other…complications.”

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Dr. Brewer entered through the open door and stopped in her tracks. She let her eyes drift to the man’s pale face. This was more than just the drug. “What happened to him?” She studied the bruises on his face and the exposed parts of his chest. The problem registered when she saw the bandage on his left bicep and just below his left collarbone. Blood was seeping through, staining both white bandages red.

She hurried to the side of the bed and dropped her purse on the floor, but held onto to her bag of medical supplies as she stripped out of her coat. She leaned over the man and touched his forehead.

“Be careful,” Mr. Ford warned. “He can be…dangerous in this condition.”

The injured man leaned into her touch and looked anything but dangerous. “He has a fever. What happened to his shoulder?” She peeked underneath the bandage. “Stab wound? What happened?” Her attention drifted to his bruised and raw wrists. “What did those people do to him?”

Mr. Ford had joined her at the man’s- Eliot, she remembered- bedside. “They used your drug on him. Beat and tortured him.”

Eliot shivered and mumbled as he forced his eyes open. “You…you’re a doc…tor?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m a doctor. I’m here to help you, Mr. Spencer.”

He squinted up at her. “Where’s your…uniform? Not military?”

She looked up at Nate. “Military?”

“He has a military background. When we got him he thought we were his unit. Wanted us to leave him. Thought he was in the field.”

She looked back into his tired, blue eyes. “No. Not military. Civilian doctor. They imagined this would be best. Don’t you?”

He nodded and gave a slow blink. “Yeah. Yeah, tha’s best. Not sure who…can trust.”

“You can trust me. I’ll help you, okay? I need you to do everything I say. Can you do that?”

Fear flashed in his eyes. Fear that warred with anger.

The change in his stare startled her. “Mr. Ford is the one who sent for me,” she added with haste. “You trust him don’t you?”

She eased her hands away and stepped back.

Eliot rolled his head over to face Nate. The unreadable expression on his face remained in place as he studied his leader’s face. Moment by moment the mask showed cracks as Nate waited for his response. The older man showed incredible patience while waiting for his teammate to decide. Patience she didn’t share after seeing the man’s injuries.

Shivers from Eliot drew Dr. Brewer’s attention back to his injuries. His shoulder was still bleeding. “Mr. Ford,” she whispered. “He needs to be treated.”

Mr. Ford nodded. “Eliot, listen. I brought her here.” He touched Eliot’s right bicep and frowned. “We’re safe. You can let us help you.” 

The tremors shook Eliot as he kept his gaze on Mr. Ford. He shivered again. “M’kay.” His eyes slid closed again.

The mastermind couldn’t hide his distress. “Tell me what you need. We’ll get it,” he whispered.

She took a pen and pad of paper from the nightstand scribbled a list of supplies. “I’ll need these supplies for the shoulder wound.” She took out the supplies she needed for a quick exam. Her thermometer read Eliot had a fever. Not dangerous, but still worrisome.

She listened to his lungs. His labored breathing concerned her. “How many injections did they give him?”

Nate shook his head. “I’m not sure. I’m aware of maybe two times. May have been more that we don’t know about.” His eyes drifted to Eliot’s face. “He’s been incoherent.”

She frowned and lifted his eyelids to check his pupils. “He has a concussion. His pupils are dilated. Dislocated shoulder…” She picked up the pad and scribbled more notes and handed it to Nate. “These are the things I’ll need. I can’t stress how important the medicines are. Antibiotics and an antidote to reverse the effects of the Blethe. They damn near overdosed him.”

Nate looked over the list and nodded. “He has a fever doesn’t he?”

She nodded. “He does. It isn’t cause for alarm yet but we need to get a jump on it now.”

“I understand.” The older man stood up and opened the bedroom door. He didn’t appear to be as surprised as she was that the blonde- _Parker_ \- hung upside down from the ceiling.  “Parker, we need these things for Eliot. Can you get them?” He handed her the list.

She tucked the paper in her pocket. “I can get them.”

“You didn’t even look at it,” the doctor said.

“Don’t need to,” the lithe thief replied. “It’s for Sparky. I’ll get them.” She turned in midair and landed on her feet. “I’ll get them,” she finished in a whisper.

Nate closed the door and returned to the bedside. Dr. Brewer had spread out the supplies she needed to suture the wound in Eliot’s shoulder.

“Do you want to aid or wait downstairs?” she asked as she readied her needle.

“I’ll stay. If he comes around while you’re working you may need a familiar face to be here too.”

She nodded. “Alright. Here we go.”

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Nate watched the hitter’s fitful sleep. The doctor left two hours ago. She had left behind the antibiotics Eliot needed and instructions for their administration. How could she have known that Nate was familiar with giving injections? But that was years ago and this time would be different.

His shoulder was a challenge. The doctor put his shoulder back in place and stitched the wound. Enough time had gone by that Eliot’s muscles resisted the relocation. Eliot had woken up in the middle of the procedure. Nate had never seen so much pain in Eliot’s eyes before. _Yell,_ he had told him. Eliot roared with pain as the joint slid back into position. Nate was thankful when blue eyes rolled back as Eliot lost consciousness and gave the doctor time to do her stitching.

And now he waited. Again. Waited as another loved one struggled with pain and fever. Odd. He had once told Eliot that they weren’t friends. The hitter had worked his way into Nate’s heart when he wasn’t looking.

The dark color of the sling only enhanced the pallor of Eliot’s skin. Nate started when a quiet moan broke the silence.

Eliot’s fingers twisted in the covers as his head tossed on the pillow. “No…”

Nate wrung out the washcloth in the basin on the nightstand and held it to the younger man’s forehead. “Shh. It’s alright, Eliot. You’re home safe.”

“Don’t ask me, Parker,” he murmured. “Please.”

“Parker isn’t here. It’s just me. It’s Nate. They have no idea what you did for Moreau. That’s over. Moreau is gone.”

The hitter turned his face toward the sound of Nate’s voice. “Moreau gone? He’s gone?”

Sophie entered and closed the door behind her. “Yes, darling. He’s gone.”

Her grace distracted Nate as she crossed the room to sit across from him on Eliot’s left. She smiled and took the cloth from Nate and dabbed it on Eliot’s brow. “He’s gone for good. And it doesn’t matter what you did then. That isn’t who you are now,” she whispered.

The feverish man sighed at the coolness of the cloth as she ran it down his neck and repeated the motion on his right side. She untangled his battle scarred fingers from the sheet and held onto his hand.

Dark eyes pinned Nate as he observed how she calmed Eliot. “Are you okay?” she asked him.

“Am I okay? Eliot is the one suffering.” He’d never become accustomed to her being able to read him with such ease.

“He isn’t the only one suffering. Parker is blaming herself because he got taken protecting her. Hardison is convinced it’s his fault for missing those guards.” Her chocolate gaze had him squirming in his seat. “And Nathan Ford is second guessing his decision to leave the hitter behind.”

They shouldn’t be having this discussion now. He was sure she was protecting their hacker and thief but discussing this over Eliot wasn’t right. “Sophie-“

“You should talk about it. We all need to talk about it.” She leaned forward to run the washcloth down Eliot’s neck and throat and dabbed it on his chest.

The gloomy expression on her face wore on Nate’s nerves. He hated seeing her in such turmoil. But he was the leader. He wouldn’t let the team realize how much he agonized over his decision. “I’m fine, Sophie. When he’s well enough, I’ll talk to the others.” 

Sophie smiled. “He’ll be okay.” She had that reassuring tone of voice she used on marks.

_Damn, she always knows what I’m thinking._ “This is what he does.”

Something changed in her eyes. “What he does.” The chair scooted across the floor as she surged to her feet. “I’ll talk to the others,” she said and rushed out.

Nate sighed. “Aren’t always the best at communication are we?” he asked the unconscious man.

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Nate jerked awake in the chair, aware of the throbbing in his head and lower back. _Too old to be sleeping at bedsides._ Thoughts of another bedside floated to the surface, and he tamped them back into the dark corners of his mind. Behind walls constructed years ago. When he had stood guard over his son as he shivered even though his body was burning with fever.

He checked his watch. Two hours. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep but Eliot had quietened after Nate and Sophie had taken turns bathing his face, neck and torso with damp washcloths. They tried to stay one step ahead of the infection. He had given the hitter another injection of the antibiotic. The grifter had turned her gaze to Eliot’s face as she murmured to him and pushed the hair out of his eyes.

Nate looked back at his charge. The younger man was sleeping, albeit a restless sleep. His head tossed on the pillow. His right hand clenched the covers in a death grip only to relax again after a couple seconds. Then the mumbling began. “N-no...won’ tell. Bout them.”

Nate leaned closer. “Sh…you’re okay. You’re not there.”

Blue eyes snapped open and Nate had to act fast to keep the hitter in the bed. “Eliot! You’re okay.” A low growl filled the room as Eliot fought against the sling.

“No. Leave it alone. It’s just a sling. You aren’t tied down. A sling for your shoulder. You got hurt. Remember?” Nate caught a flailing right hand and held tight. “It’s a sling. Just a sling. It’s okay.” He dropped his voice to a whisper hoping to inject much needed calm into the situation.

The silence in the room was eerie before Eliot’s raspy voice broke it. “N-Nate?”

“Yeah. It’s me. Everyone is safe.” He still clung to Eliot’s hand and after the fight left his body, fierce tremors replaced the hitter’s strength.

Eliot closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “Shit. ‘S hot.”

“It’s not hot. You are. Your wounds got infected. I’m giving you antibiotics.”

“Infection? How bad is it?” His unsteady blue gaze found its way to Nate’s face.

Nate understood what the hitter meant. Not just the infection. “Your shoulder is dislocated. Dr. Brewer put it back and immobilized it. She stitched the knife wounds and left me the medicine for them. You’ve got other cuts, bruises. A concussion. That covers it.”

A quiet groan described Eliot’s thoughts on the situation. “Tha’s enough.” He shifted to get comfortable and Nate released his hand. “What did they see?” he whispered.

“Eliot-“

“C’mon. Cut the crap. I need you to tell me. How much did they…?”

The hitter’s icy stare gave Nate a new sympathy for specimens on a dissecting table. He remained silent.

“So everything.” It wasn’t a question. Nate’s silence had betrayed him.   

“It doesn’t matter.”

Eliot flinched and his jaw muscles flexed as he turned his face away from Nate. “It matters,” the hitter replied. His eyes drifted closed again.

 With a sigh, Nate re-wet the washcloth and wiped down Eliot’s face and neck again. “I know, Eliot. I wish they hadn’t seen it too. Wish you’d never been in that position.”

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Parker had been sitting beside him for hours it seemed. Eliot sensed her stare. Could feel her gaze penetrate his skull.

He tried to not let his annoyance build to a dangerous level. He couldn’t pretend to sleep forever. His muscles cramped. He had to change position.

He stretched out his legs and sighed at the relief in his aching back.

“Eliot?” Parker’s voice was quiet. “Are you awake?”

He forced his eyes open against the light in the room. “Yeah, Parker. I’m awake.”

Her smile made the room even brighter. “Hey, Sparky.”

“Hey,” he murmured. “How long you been starin’ at me?”

The blonde shrugged in that disinterested way she had. “Not sure. Three…four hours?”

Eliot tried to sit up too fast and the pain in his side forced him to his back again. He struggled to control his discomfort and asked, “I’ve been asleep that long?”

Parker nodded. “Yeah. I’ve never seen you sleep so long.” A confused grimace marred her features. “I’ve never seen you sleep at all. Nate told me not to, but I got nervous when you didn’t wake up after a couple of hours and I poked you. I’m sorry but at least you growled at me in your sleep.”

“Park- you did what?”

Tears filled her eyes as she stared at him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “At least that let me know you were okay.”

_Never could stand to see her cry._ “It’s okay.” He reached out to her and touched the back of her hand. “It’s okay.” He put as much effort as possible into the smile he gave her. Eliot hissed as his lip split open again.

“Oh. Hang on.” She sprang from her chair and hurried for the bathroom. She came back with a washcloth and glass of water.

“What’re you doing?” Eliot asked as she leaned over him. He tried not to shrink into the pillow as she dabbed the blood from his lip.

“Here. I brought you water.”

She hooked her arm under his shoulders and helped him sit up enough for a drink.

It took all of Eliot’s self-control to not snap at her for treating him like an invalid. If he did that he would break the spell of Parker showing emotion and caring for someone.

She was smiling as she eased him back to the pillow, and he returned the smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Sophie showed me how to…you know. Help.”

“You’re doing good. A good job, Parker.” He let his eyes drift closed. _Damn. Still tired._

The thief was quiet but Eliot still sensed her presence at his bedside. “What is it, Parker? You’re thinking too loud.”

“I was thinking about the job.”

He detected how her voice cracked on the final word and forced his eyes open again. “What about it?”

Her steady gaze met and held his. “You got caught protecting me.”

“We all know that’s the danger of my job. I protect the team. Sometimes things happen.”

“I never meant for you to get taken, Eliot.”

Dammit. Her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over. “It’s not your fault. I was in the building. They had you cornered. I wouldn’t leave you.”

Blonde hair fell over her shoulders as she shook her head. “But, what they did to you-“

“Has nothing to do with you. I told you to run, Parker. You had done your job. It was time to do mine. You got that file out of Conrad’s hands before he could do real damage with it. Remember what I said about what makes us different?” He saw the realization in her eyes before she dropped her gaze to the comforter.

“We can make the hard calls the others can’t make.” He had to strain to hear her murmur.

“And I wouldn’t change the call I made. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

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The next time Eliot awoke, he knew someone else was with him. A sluggish turn of his head showed Hardison with his head on the side of the bed. His soft snores filled the room. He still had a washcloth clutched in his hand.

Eliot’s fever had been improving. He could tell on his own but he had damn near hourly confirmation from Sophie and her infernal thermometer.

He held still as long as possible to keep from disturbing the hacker. If his bladder had its way, he would have to resort to covert ops just to take care of nature's call.

When the need to relieve himself reached critical levels, he decided it was go now or face the ultimate indignity of having someone change his sheets.

Eliot kept his groaning to a minimum as he pushed the sheets back enough to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

He plodded to the bathroom using furniture and walls for support.  

He had washed his good hand and pulled the door open when he ran into a bug eyed hacker. "Dammit. Hardison." The sudden appearance had surprised him.

"Eliot! What the hell? What are you doing out of bed?"

If Eliot had felt better, he would have chuckled at the indignant stare Hardison gave him. "I had to take a piss, Hardison." He walked slower than he wanted as he headed for the bedroom door.

"Aw...hell no. Where do you think you're going?" Hardison asked and grabbed Eliot's good arm.

Eliot gazed at the bedroom door and the freedom it offered as the hacker steered him toward the bed with ease. "Going stir crazy up here," he grumbled.

"Sit," the hacker ordered when they reached the bed.

"Hardison, I can get up-"

"No! Just no, okay. You were...you've had a fever. You need to rest. Heal."

Eliot caught himself before he rolled his eyes. "It's been two days."

" _Only_ two days since we got you home. Two days you've been recovering from beatings, being drugged, a stab wound. Not to mention a raging infection."

This time he did roll his eyes. "I wouldn’t call it a raging infection."

A forlorn expression crossed the young man's face. "Just let me help you. It's the least I can do for you."

Eliot bristled at the comment. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Hardison shrugged. "It's...it's just those extra guys. I missed them."

Eliot eased himself onto the edge of the bed. "Hardison." He hoped his voice came across as more of a warning than it sounded to his own ears.

"Come on, man. I know you wanna yell at me over it. Wouldn't blame you. I almost wish you would."

Eliot couldn't stop the grunt that escaped as he scooted back on the mattress. "I'm not gonna yell at you."

"Don't you want to at least talk about it? I mean...you must have something-"

"I don't want to talk about it, Hardison!" _Note to self, yelling hurts ribs._ He settled back on the bed and closed his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it right now. Wanna sleep." _There. That should send him scurrying away if he thinks I'll rest._

"Yeah. Okay, Eliot. I'll be downstairs."

Eliot heard the hacker's footsteps pause at the door before it opened and closed with a soft click. He covered his eyes with his good arm. "Shit." He had hurt Hardison's feelings. The team hadn't given him a moment alone with his thoughts since he got home.

These things happened to people like him. It wouldn't be the last time.

What he was sure of, was his team was hurting. It was a hitter's job to stop that from happening. _As soon as I recover from walking across the room. Dammit._

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.

Nate looked over his team as they watched him. Waiting for him to impart wisdom he didn’t have right now.

He knew Parker blamed herself because Eliot was protecting her when he they grabbed him. And Hardison. Hardison looked a mixture of terrified and ready to throw up since coming back from talking to the hitter an hour ago.

Nate wasn’t sure that Sophie didn’t blame him for leaving Eliot. “Are you okay, Hardison?”

The hacker looked at him for a moment, then lowered his gaze to the floor. “Yeah. He’s just…grumpy.”

Parker’s eyes were big when she looked at the hacker. “He’s always grumpy though. That’s just Eliot.”

Hardison shook his head. “This was different. I tried to talk to him about what happened. He…yelled at me. Said he didn’t wanna talk about it. Wanted to sleep.”

Nate knew his shock showed on his face. “That’s not out of the ordinary considering what he has gone through.”

“Isn’t it obvious? He blames me,” Hardison said.

Parker shook her head. “If anybody is to blame, it’s me. I’m the one who got caught.”

_I’ve got to do something. This will spiral out of control._ “Listen. This is a team. We each have a job to do. And we do it. I’m the mastermind. You’re my team. You do what I tell you.”

Sophie narrowed her eyes. “Nate, you can’t blame-“.

“Maybe I should, Sophie.”

.

.

.

Eliot had stumbled to the bottom of the stairs. Sophie studied him as he stood clinging to the railing. While the worst of the fever had passed during the night, he was still pale and slight tremors shook his form.

Sophie was happy to see Eliot still wore the sling. The happiness faded when she realized he couldn’t take it off by himself.

Hardison moved as if to help Eliot, but Sophie placed a hand on the hacker’s arm and gave him a minute head shake. Best to leave the hitter alone right now.

“You can all stop staring. I ain’t gonna fall over.” Eliot’s voice was gruff as he chastised them.

The team members looked at each other and shared a glance that said they weren’t convinced.

The hitter pressed his lips together as he shuffled toward the kitchen. But Sophie saw how much effort he put into not letting the pain show.

“Damn stubborn man,” she muttered as she watched his progression to the fridge.

“Where the hell is my beer? I had a six pack in here.” He did not sound happy.

Sophie walked over to the counter separating the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. “You don’t need beer with a concussion. Not to mention your other injuries.”

The hitter gritted his teeth. “I’m not a kid, Sophie.”

“Nobody said you were, man,” Hardison offered. “We needed room for the stuff you’d need.”

It was true. Not only was Eliot’s beer gone, but also Hardison’s beloved orange soda had disappeared. In its place were bottles of water and Gatorade. Containers of soup and broths filled the shelves. All things for helping someone recuperate.

“I got things I thought would be good for you,” Hardison continued. “My soup isn’t as good as yours. A place downtown makes it fresh though.”

“Dammit, Hardison,” Eliot whispered. He turned and looked at the team. The look on his face softened.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, darling?” Sophie flashed him a big smile.

“And let all you sit down here enjoying a nice guilt fest?” He raised a hand to silence the instant denial. “You’re all blaming yourselves. I’ve tried to tell you one on one not to. So let’s try this with everybody together. We each have a place- a job- within this team. Mine is dangerous. Nate is our leader. He knows each of our skill sets. Parker, Hardison, you each have skills I don’t have. My skill is keeping you all safe.” 

He looked the team in the eye, each member. “We’re a family. I protect my family. It’s what I do.” Tears welled up in his blue eyes but he didn’t allow them to spill over. “Don’t belittle the sacrifices I make by feeling guilty about them.”

The team stared at him, speechless. Sophie smiled at the pride swelling in her chest. Eliot had come so far. He admitted to caring for the team and let them know his sacrifices weren’t just for the _job_.

She walked to him and took a gentle hold on his right elbow. “Come on. Let’s get you back in bed. You look tired.”

Much to her surprise, he didn’t argue as she guided him up the stairs, into the bedroom and to the bed once more.

His tired gaze drifted around the room in his ever present sense of hyperawareness as she tucked in their hitter.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” She patted his right bicep with gentle movements.

Eliot’s attention was back on her. “Because I’ve been lying in here for two days already. How much sleep you think I need?”

“Well, darling,” she whispered as she leaned over him, “you had quite the fever yesterday. Even Eliot Spencer needs time to recover.” She gave his elbow a squeeze.

“I see what you’re doing. And you can stop trying to brainwash me.” His voice was a tired growl.

“Why, I don’t know what you mean.” She put all her charm and grifting abilities into her smile. “We’re just talking.”

“You know ‘xactly what I’m talking about. Your neuro…neuro…” He closed his eyes for a few seconds before forcing them back open.

“It’s neuro-linguistic programming, not brainwashing. And I’m just telling you how important rest is. I could always get Nate to hypnotize you.”

“Damn con men,” he mumbled as his eyes slipped closed.

Sophie noticed there was a smile on his face though.

She sneaked out, threw one more glance at him, and closed the door.

 


End file.
